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H|tandard Library Cdition 


AMERICAN STATESMEN 


EDITED BY 


JOHN T. MORSE, JR. 
IN THIRTY-TWO VOLUMES 
VOL. XXIX. 


THE CIVIL WAR 
CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


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American Statesmen 


CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


BY HIS SON 


CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 





2 enersiie Drom 


BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
Che Viverside Press, Cambridge 
1900 


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By CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS. 


Copyright, 1900, 
By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 


All rights reserved. — 





ffép1- 1947 HILDEBRANDT 


PREFACE 


TWENTY-SEVEN years have now elapsed since 
Mr. Adams returned from Europe, after the 
Geneva arbitration of 1872, in which he ren- 
dered his last considerable public service, and it 
lacks a few days only of thirteen years since his 
death. No use whatever has hitherto been made 
of his papers. Though neither in bulk nor in 
interest equal to the accumulations left by John 
Adams or by John Quincy Adams, these have 
none the less a distinct value, shedding, as they 
do, much contemporaneous light on a period and 
a struggle which, not improbably, will hereafter 
be accounted the most momentous in American 
history. Mr. Adams was not an active letter- 
writer, or systematic collector of material; but 
he preserved all his correspondence, together 
with copies of his own letters, and for over fifty 
years, from the time he entered Harvard, he 
kept a diary, in which there is scarcely a break. 

The time has now come when this material 
may fairly be used. The following sketch is, 
therefore, in part a preliminary study, and in 


vi PREFACE 


part the condensed abstract of a larger and more 
detailed work already far advanced in prepara- 
tion. If narrated by another than himself, no 
matter how skillfully, the career of Mr. Adams 
would offer not much of interest. One brief 
volume would amply suffice to do full justice to 
it. It so chanced, however, that he has told his 
own story in his own way; the story of a life 
some of which was passed in a prominent posi- 
tion, at a great centre, and during a memorable 
period. This story he has told, too, very simply 
and directly; but, necessarily, in great detail. 
When a public character thus gives an account 
of himself, and what he did and saw, and how 
he felt, not autobiographically, but jotting it all 
down from day to day as events developed, he 
must be given space. In such case, through a 
too severe condensation the biographer is apt to 
substitute himself for the man. It has so proved 
with Mr. Adams; and yet in the larger publica- 
tion but a small portion of the material he left 
will be used. 

The present sketch is chiefly biographical. In 
it only now and then does Mr. Adams speak for 
himself. The work hereafter forthcoming will 
be made up in a much greater degree of extracts 
from his diary, letters, and papers, with only 
such extraneous matter as may be deemed ne- 


PREFACE Vii 


cessary to connect the narrative, and to throw 
light upon it by means of developments since 
made, explaining much which was to him at the 
time he wrote obscure or deceptive. 


Get AA. 
November 11, 1899. 





CONTENTS 


. BrrtH AND EDUCATION . 

. Earzuy LIFe . 

. THe MAssAcuusEtts LEGISLATURE 

. THe “ Boston Wuic” 

. Tae FREE-Som Party . 

. THe Ess or THE TIDE 

. Toe AntTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 

. THe AWAKENING 

. THE PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 
. SEWARD’s FoREIGN WAR PANACEA . 

. Tar TREATY OF PARIS . 

. Tue Trent AFFAIR 

. A Bout witH THE PREMIER. 

. THe Corron FAMINE . 

. THe Crisis 0F RECOGNITION 

. THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION . 

. THe ALABAMA AND THE “ LarRp Rams” 
. THe YEARS OF FRUITION 

. THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 


. Crosinc YEARS . ; 4 P 


INDEX A ; F , ; : : 


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ILLUSTRATIONS 


CHARLES Francis ADAMS. . .. . . . ~ Frontisptece 


From a photograph by Whipple in the possession 
of Charles Francis Adams, Esq. 
Autograph furnished by Mr. Adams. 
The vignette of Mr. Adams’s home, Quincy, Mass., 
is from a photograph. Page 


Lorp Joun RussELL. . . arent « Wa pacing 148 


From a photograph by Elliott and Fry. 
Autograph from a MS. in the Library of the Bos- 
ton Atheneum. 


oGHARD COBDEN. ..-.-. +... + facing 264 
From a photograph in the possession of his daugh- 
ter, Mrs. James Cobden Unwin. 
Autograph from the William Lloyd Garrison MSS., 
Boston Public Library. 
OREO ks kw eo Lfcing 882 
From a photograph by Elliott and Fry. 
Autograph from a MS. in the Library of the Bos- 
ton Athenzum. 


CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


CHAPTER I 
BIRTH AND EDUCATION 


THOUGH born in Boston, and, until he was 
over fifty, passing all his maturer life under New 
England influences, Charles Francis Adams was 
of mixed Northern and Southern descent. 
Pure English on both sides, without a trace, so 
far as can be ascertained, of Scotch or Irish, 
much less of continental ancestry, race charac- 
teristics went with him in the blood, —a factor 
of no inconsiderable moment in his public life. 
But while through his father he came of the 
genuine New England stock, — the Aldens of 
Plymouth, and the Shepards, Quincys, Nortons, 
Boylstons, and Basses of the Massachusetts Bay, 
—on the maternal side he was a Johnson of 
Maryland. Of this family Governor Thomas 
Johnson was, in Revolutionary times, the head. 
An ardent patriot and close personal friend of 
Washington, he was afterwards not only ap- 


2 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


pointed by the first President an associate jus- 
tice of the Supreme Court, but later was ten- 
dered the chief justiceship ; which position he 
declined. A large family, during Revolutionary 
times the Maryland Johnsons were well repre- 
sented in the Continental army ; but one brother, 
Joshua, twelve years the junior of Governor 
Thomas, had in early life established himself 
as a merchant in London. When the trans- 
Atlantic troubles broke out Joshua Johnson 
removed to France, taking up his abode at 
Nantes, where he acted as agent of the Mary- 
land colony. After the peace of 1783 he went 
back to England; and, in 1785, under the Con- 
federation, was appointed American consul at 
London, being the first to hold that office. He 
lived in a house near Tower Hill; and J. Q. 
Adams, then representing the United States at 
the Hague, though recently appointed and con- 
firmed as minister to Prussia, records in his 
diary that, at 9 o’clock on the morning of July 
26, 1797, he went “ to Mr. Johnson’s, and thence 
to the Church of the parish of All Hallows 
Barking, where I was married. ... We were 
married before eleven in the morning, and im- 
mediately after went out to see Tilney House.” 
Louisa Catherine, the second of Mr. Johnson’s 
five daughters, was, on this occasion, the other 
party to the ceremony. 


BIRTH AND EDUCATION 3 


In 1801 J. Q. Adams returned to America. 
Settling in Boston, he began, rather than re- 
sumed, the practice of his profession as a law- 
yer; and, in February, 1803, being then a mem- 
ber of the Massachusetts State Senate, he was 
chosen by the legislature United States senator. 
In 1806 he was further appointed the first 
Boylston Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory at 
Harvard. Holding these two positions, now so 
curiously incompatible, he lived, in 1807, in a 
frame house which long stood opposite the Com- 
mon, on the southwest corner of Tremont and 
Nassau, as Boylston Street was then called, being 
on part of the present site of the Hotel Touraine. 
Here, on Tuesday, August 18, 1807, his third 
child, a son, was born; and nearly four weeks 
later, on Sunday, September 13th, the father 
wrote: ‘My child, born the 18th of last month, 
was this afternoon baptized by Mr. Emerson, and 
received the name of Charles Francis, — the 
first of which I gave him in remembrance of 
my deceased brother, and the second as a token 
of honour to my old friend and patron, Judge 
Dana.” The Mr. Emerson here mentioned was 
then the settled minister of the First Church of 
Boston, and father of Ralph Waldo Emerson, 
at the time a child of four years. The “ de- 
ceased brother,” Charles, a third son of John 
Adams, had died in New York in December, 


£ CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


1801. The connection with “Judge Dana” 
was more remote, and there was about it a plea- 
sant sentimental significance. In 1807 Chief 
Justice Dana had, only about a year before, re- 
tired from the Supreme Court of Massachusetts ; 
but twenty-seven years earlier J. Q. Adams, 
then a boy still in his fourteenth year, had ac- 
companied him on a futile diplomatic errand 
to Russia, acting as his secretary and French 
interpreter. This remote Revolutionary recol- 
lection now bore fruit in a family name. 

On August 10, 1809, two years after the 
diary entry above referred to was made, John 
Quincy Adams, having in 1808 resigned his seat 
in the Senate and shortly after been appointed 
by President Madison first minister of the 
United States to Russia, left Boston, and, driv- 
ing “over Charles River Bridge to Mr. William 
Gray’s wharf in Charlestown, there went on 
board his ship Horace, Captain Beckford, fitted 
out on a voyage to St. Petersburg direct.” 
With him went the young Charles Francis, a 
child not yet two; and “ eight full and eventful 
years’ were to elapse before, a lad of ten, he 
was again to see his native town. His educa- 
tion during those years was of a very desultory 
character, first in his father’s house at St. 
Petersburg and later in an English boarding- 
school. In Russia, French was not only the 


BIRTH AND EDUCATION 5 


court language, but the language of society ; 
and, curiously enough in the case of Americans 
at that time, both Mr. and Mrs. Adams had 
passed much of their childhood in France, — he 
at Paris, she at Nantes. They, therefore, en- 
joyed the inestimable advantage, placed as they 
then were, of perfect familiarity with French ; 
and French thus became the child’s native 
tongue, that which he talked in preference to 
any other. After his return home, in 1817, 
close upon forty-four years were to elapse be- 
fore he was again in Europe; but when, in 
1871-72, he served on the Geneva Arbitration, 
he had occasion to appreciate at its full value 
that childish familiarity with French acquired 
more than half a century before. 

At the close of April, 1814, J. Q. Adams left 
St. Petersburg, under instructions from his gov- 
ernment to take part in the peace negotiations 
with Great Britain, shortly afterwards entered 
upon at Ghent. Mrs. Adams remained, with her 
child, in Russia until the following winter, 
awaiting instructions from her husband. The 
correspondence between father and son, which 
was to continue until the death of the former, 
now began, and has still an interest, revealing, 
as it does, the kindlier, more domestic, and less 
austere features of the older man’s character. 
For instance, from Amsterdam in June, 1814, 


6 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


he writes to the child, not yet seven, describing 
how much he had wished his three boys with 
him in his travels of late, and adding this 
graphic little pen-and-ink genre sketch of 
Holland : — 

“Jt is a very curious and beautiful country 
to see, especially at this season. It is all smooth 
and level as the floor of a house; a constant 
succession of green pastures, covered with multi- 
tudes of sheep and cattle, and intersected with 
canals upon which the people travel in large 
covered boats drawn by horses. I am sure it 
would be a pleasure to you to see the little boys, 
in large breeches, big enough to make you two 
suits of clothes, and wooden shoes, and black 
round wigs, and pipes of tobacco in their 
mouths; and the little girls, with petticoats 
stuffed out like an umbrella, coming half down 
their legs, and blue stockings, and slippers with- 
out heels, flapping at their feet as they walk 
along.”’ 

Presently it became evident that J. Q. Adams 
was not to return to St. Petersburg; so Mrs. 
Adams, breaking up the establishment there, set 
out to join her husband somewhere in western 
Europe, exactly where she did not know; for 
the times were troublous, and means of commu- 
nication poor. ‘Taking with her the boy, now 
in his eighth year, and accompanied only by a 


BIRTH AND EDUCATION 7 


servant, she left St. Petersburg in her travel- 
ing carriage, and found her way in midwinter 
across Europe, then filled with the troops of 
the allied armies on their way home after the 
abdication of Napoleon, and finally joined her 
husband in Paris on March 238, 1815, at the 
beginning of the famous “ Hundred Days.” It 
was a Thursday when she drove up to the hotel 
in Paris, and Napoleon, fresh from Elba, had on 
the previous Monday been borne in triumph up 
the steps of the Tuileries in the arms of his old 
soldiers, delirious with joy. The journey had 
been long and trying; but Mrs. Adams was 
quite equal to the occasion, for she delighted in 
movement, and never felt so well or so happy as 
when inside of a traveling carriage. They re- 
mained at Paris until the middle of May, when 
J. Q. Adams, who had then been appointed to 
the English mission, crossed over with his family 
to London, arriving there just three weeks be- 
fore the day of Waterloo. When they started 
for England, Napoleon had not yet left Paris, 
and Charles Francis always afterwards had a 
vivid recollection of looking up, a boy in the 
surging crowd, and seeing the Emperor as he 
stood in the familiar clothes on the balcony of 
the Tuileries, acknowledging the acclamations 
of the multitude below. 

The next two years were passed in England, 


8 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


where J. Q. Adams was at last rejoined by his 
two elder sons, from whom he had been six years 
separated. John, the second, and his young 
brother Charles were sent to a boarding-school 
at Ealing, kept by a Dr. Nicholas, where they 
made a rough and simultaneous acquaintance 
with English boys and with the Latin grammar, 
taught, as that grammar in English schools then 
was, itself in Latin. It was just after the close 
of the war of 1812-15, — indeed, the battle of 
New Orleans and the brilliant engagement in 
which the Constitution captured the Cyane and 
Levant had occurred only a few months before, 
and within the year; so it was in no degree to 
be wondered at that the two young “ Yankees” 
did not find their position peculiarly pleasant. 
The school was a large one, there being in it 
some two hundred and fifty boys, and on one 
occasion at least the two Adamses would seem 
to have had distinctly the advantage; for, in 
writing to his mother, J. Q. Adams, referring to 
the school-life, tells her that Dr. Nicholas was 
“highly diverted with a repartee of John’s to 
one of the boys, who asked him slyly, whether 
he had ever been at Washington. No: (said 
John), but I have been at New Orleans.” In 
August, 1815, General Scott, fresh from Niagara 
and Chippewa, was in London. Of course he 
visited Mr. Adams; and the old soldier never 


BIRTH AND EDUCATION 9 


afterwards forgot the fact that, when he was 
dining at Mr. Adams’s house, young Charles 
Francis spoke up suddenly, and asked him to 
tell about his battles in Canada, for use at 
school. More than twenty years later, while 
walking with his father through the capitol at 
Washington, Mr. Adams met General Scott, 
who recalled the incident, illustrating thereby, 
as Mr. Adams thought, his well-known personal 
vanity ; though it would have seemed natural 
enough, and in no way peculiar to Scott, that, 
within three months after Waterloo, an Ameri- 
ean officer should feel gratified to find his name 
and exploits familiar as household words in the 
mouth of a boy of eight in England. 

Singular as it may appear, like the French of 
his infancy at St. Petersburg, this experience at 
the Ealing boarding-school was of very appre- 
ciable value to Mr. Adams half a century, later, 
indeed was a most important educational factor. 
It caused him to understand the English char- 
acter. He had come in contact with it as a child 
in the absolutely natural life of an English 
school; and when, as a man, he came in contact 
with it again, an insight did not have to be ac- 
quired. It had, on the contrary, already been 
bred, probably beaten, into him; and he acted 
unconsciously upon it. He was in a degree to 
the manner born; for, though he retained no 


10 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


pleasant memories of the English character or 
of English boys, he and they had been brought 
up together in one nursery. 

In 1817, at the beginning of the first admin- 
istration of Monroe, J. Q. Adams, after cight 
years’ residence in Europe, was recalled to Amer- 
ica. Landing in New York with his parents in 
August, the young Charles Francis was taken 
immediately to Quincy, where, when his father 
a month later went to Washington to assume 
his duties as secretary of state in the Monroe 
cabinet, he remained in charge of his grand- 
mother, Mrs. John Adams. Mrs. Adams was 
then in her seventy-third year, and died thir- 
teen months later; but never, to the end of Mr: 
Adams’s life, did the impression her character 
then made on him fade away. Older than he, 
and now almost grown up, his two brothers, 
during their father’s absence in Russia, had 
been left under her care; and in later life Mr. 
Adams used to describe his own surprise, shortly 
after he got home in 1817, at seeing his big 
brothers actually burst into tears as they tried 
to exculpate themselves when their grandmo- 
ther, because of some trifling misconduct, had 
occasion to rebuke them. At the time he could 
not understand the feeling of affection and rev- 
erence with which they regarded her; though 
a little later he himself fully shared in it. Her 


BIRTH AND EDUCATION 11 


death brought with it a change, as complete as 
it was sad and indescribable, in both the moral 
atmosphere and the physical surroundings of the 
house at Quincy; but not until twenty years 
afterwards did the publication of her letters 
make apparent to others the cause of the vener- 
ation with which her descendants looked up to 
her, and the grounds of her influence over them. 

Immediately after his return to America Mr. 
Adams entered the Boston Latin School, of 
which Benjamin Apthorp Gould had then been 
for three years head master, and came under 
that teacher’s inspiring personal influence. 
From childhood upwards a matured, self-con- 
tained character, he was apparently somewhat a 
favorite with Mr. Gould, of whom he always 
afterwards spoke with the utmost respect, while 
the Latin School and its traditions stood high in 
his estimation; so high indeed that, as matter 
of course, he in due time sent to it his own two 
eldest sons in their turn, with results, to them 
at least, the reverse of satisfactory. Entering 
Harvard in 1821, when scarcely fourteen, Mr. 
Adams graduated in 1825. 


CHAPTER II 
EARLY LIFE 


AFTER graduation, Mr. Adams passed some 
years at Washington; living in the White 
House then presided over by his mother, mixing 
in the society of the place, observing the course 
of events, and noting down his impressions 
of the eminent public men of the period, — 
Randolph, Jackson, Clay, and Webster. In 
the autumn of 1828, however, Mr. Adams left 
Washington and went back to Boston, there, as 
it proved, to take up his residence for the next 
thirty years. Mr. Webster, in the full swing of 
his great powers, had advised him that, as things 
then were, the law was “a man’s only course; ” 
and Mr. Adams, reflecting on this advice, made 
up his mind that “ the proper course [for him] 
to adopt [was] to make the law a profession, so 
as to rise in character; and, if anything better 
should present, to take it, provided it [was] 
really better.’ So, with this in view, he en- 
tered the office of Mr. Webster as a student in 
November, 1828. His studies do not seem to 
have been of long continuance, for, on the 6th 


EARLY LIFE 13 


of the following January, being then in his 
twenty-second year, he was admitted to practice 
as an attorney; and, six months later, on Sep- 
tember 5, 1829, he was married, at the family 
residence in Medford, to Abigail Brown, the 
youngest child of Peter Chardon Brooks, of 
Boston, whose other daughters were the wives, 
the one of Nathaniel L. Frothingham, then and 
long after, in succession to William Emerson, 
with one brief intervening ministry, pastor of 
the First Congregational Church ; the other, of 
Edward Everett. 

Beginning in December, 1859, and closing in 
November, 1872, the active public life of Mr. 
Adams was confined to almost exactly thirteen 
years ; and to the history of those years, and the 
share he took in their events, this biography 
will be mainly devoted. Not that the earlier 
period lacked interest, or interest having an his- 
torical bearing, but it was mainly in connec- 
tion with others, or with great political move- 
ments then in the more incipient stage. For 
instance, between 18380 and 1846, the life of 
Mr. Adams was inseparably interwoven with 
the career of his father, and, in reality, not less 
essential to that career than influenced by it. 
Indeed, the memorable record made by J. Q. 
Adams from 1832 to 1846 would not have been 
possible had it not been for the cooperation and 


14 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


quiet support he received from his son, whose 
own direct influence on public questions was 
meanwhile hardly perceptible. Yet at the be- 
ginning the son had strenuously opposed the 
reéntry of the father into public life. ’ 

When, through the election of General Jack- 
son, J. Q. Adams was retired from the presi- 
dency, he was in his sixty-second year. Accord- 
ing to all precedent he thus found himself, in 
the full enjoyment of his great powers, relegated 
to what was known as “a dignified retirement.” 
Meanwhile, adapted to public life, he had an 
insatiable craving for it. Accustomed to it, 
from it he derived that enjoyment which ever 
strong man derives from the exercise of his 
muscles, intellectual or physical. His son now 
wanted J. Q. Adams, with the examples of 
Washington, Jefferson, and Madison before him, 
quietly to accept the situation, and devote his 
remaining years to literary pursuits and philo- 
sophical meditation. To the father this pro- 
spect was not alluring; for though, by accident 
of birth, some forty years the elder man of the 
two, he was in combativeness of disposition con- 
siderably the younger, and in feelings the less 
mature. Accordingly, on the first opportunity 
that offered, he plunged once more into the po- 
litical current; nor did he again emerge from it. 
As is well known, he sank in the swim. 


EARLY LIFE 15 


Meanwhile when in 1830 he, an ex-Presi- 
dent, accepted the nomination for Congress ten- 
dered him from what was then known as the 
Plymouth district, he took the chances heavily 
against himself; for at that juncture he was 
passing through a severe ordeal. During the 
previous twenty years his career had been one 
of almost unbroken success. Minister to Russia 
during the close of the Napoleonic period, nego- 
tiator of the treaty of Ghent, minister to Great 
Britain after the war of 1812-15, secretary of 
state for eight years and President for four, 
he had passed on from one position to another 
with a regularity and firmness more sugges- 
tive of European than American public life. In 
private, too, he had been sufficiently prosper- 
ous. His sons had grown up and chosen their 
professions; two of them were married; his 
estate, though not large, sufficed for his needs. 
Suddenly, beginning with the autumn of 1828, 
calamity succeeded calamity. Defeated by Jack- 
son in the election of that year, hardly had he 
been retired from the presidency when he lost 
his oldest son, suddenly and while on the way 
to Washington. Five years later another son 
died. Through the unfortunate business ven- 
tures of the latter the father had become pecu- 
niarily involved; and thus, between 1830 and 
1835, he was confronted at once by political de- 


16 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


feat, domestic affliction, and financial ruin. The 
situation, in every aspect bad, was made appre- 
clably worse by the fact that the remaining son 
so disapproved of the father’s return to public 
life that the two were for a time “not upon 
terms of perfect cordiality.” 

The elder man, however, bore up bravely ; 
and, from the spring of 1835, affairs gradually 
assumed a more cheerful aspect. The father’s 
course had then unmistakably vindicated itself. 
He had demonstrated that he was right, — that 
he understood himself and the situation. So 
far as he was concerned, the problem of what 
we are to do with our ex-Presidents did not 
eall for further consideration. This particular 
ex-President had developed the capacity to take 
care of himself; and thenceforth not only did 
remonstrance cease on the part of the son, but 
the feeling which gave birth to it changed, as 
rapidly as silently, into one of pride, loyalty, 
intense approval, and earnest cooperation. The 
cooperation, too, was essential. ‘The financial 
tangle had to be unsnarled ; and, while perfectly 
tractable and quick to adopt any needful mea- 
sures of economy, J. Q. Adams could not educate 
himself to business methods or to those details 
incident to the care of property. One of the 
commonly whispered charges against him dur- 
ing his later years and after his death was an 


EARLY LIFE 17 


alleged inclination to parsimony,—a well-de- 
veloped tendency to New England thrift. The 
fact was that, by reason of incorrigible care- 
lessness in private monetary matters, he escaped 
ruin and want—the fate of his predecessor 
Monroe — only through prudent management 
on the part of his son, who, in 1835-36, practi- 
cally, though with that gentleman’s consent, put 
the ex-President under financial guardianship. 
Though his establishment was a modest one, J. 
Q. Adams, from that time to the end of his life, 
rarely lived within his income; of which his 
paltry pay of $1500 or $2000 per annum as a 
member of Congress was an essential part. The 
increasing value of such real estate as he owned 
in Boston and Washington gradually relieved 
him from any pressing embarrassment; but 
throughout his congressional career it was solely 
due to the wholesome oversight thus exercised 
over him that J. Q. Adams was able to remain 
in public life. But for it he would have faded 
out in financial straits. 

Thus vicariously doing his share in public 
life, Mr. Adams turned his attention more and 
more to literary, historical, and, incidentally, 
to political topics. The ‘North American Re- 
view ” was then the recognized medium through 
which New England culture found expression ; 
and towards that medium Mr. Adams naturally 


18 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


turned. Between the years 1829 and 18438 
the “North American” was edited first by 
Alexander H. Everett, a brother of Edward, 
and then by Dr. John G. Palfrey, subsequently 
the historian of New England, Dr. Palfrey suc- 
ceeding Mr. Everett in 1835. The Review was 
then a vigorous, well-written, high-toned ‘* quar- 
terly,”’ modeled on the “ Edinburgh,” of which it 
was an unpartisan and consequently somewhat 
colorless American echo. In fact, as compared 
with its great Scotch prototype, it was slightly 
suggestive of the play of “* Hamlet,” the part of 
the Prince of Denmark, in that case personified 
by Francis Jeffrey, being omitted. To it Mr. 
Adams, first and last, contributed in all seventeen 
papers, filling more than four hundred and fifty 
printed pages, and dealing ordinarily with topics 
more or less connected with American history, 
such as the lives of Thomas Hutchinson and 
Aaron Burr, the Madison Papers and the North- 
eastern Boundary. Beginning in the January 
number of 1831, with a review of James Gra- 
ham’s “ History of the United States,” first 
published some three years before, and then 
little known in America, he closed in the num- 
ber for July, 1846, with an article on the * Let- 
ters of the Earl of Chesterfield.” 

During all these years, as long before, the 
papers left by John Adams were still lying 


EARLY LIFE 19 


bundled up in the boxes to which, in repeated 
processes of removals, they had been con- 
signed, — a vast, unsorted, miscellaneous accu- 
mulation. It was part of the son’s plan, only 
slowly and very reluctantly abandoned, that 
J. Q. Adams should put these papers in order, 
and prepare from them a biography of his fa- 
ther ; for, all his life, Mr. Adams labored under 
the delusion that J. Q. Adams, preéminent as 
a controversialist and for drawing state papers, 
had also great literary capacity. Fortunately 
J. Q. Adams understood himself much better 
than his son understood him; and, greatly to 
the discomfiture of the latter, he evinced the 
utmost indisposition to having anything to do 
with the John Adams papers or controversies. 
His son could not account for this indifference ; 
and yet it seems explicable enough when he 
records how his father one day, made impatient 
by his solicitude, exclaimed upon “ the weariness 
of raking over a stale political excitement.” 
There was, in truth, in J. Q. Adams a great 
deal of human nature. Yielding to its im- 
pulse, he was now again involved in the politi- 
cal movements at Washington, taking, as his 
astonished son wrote, ‘‘as much interest as if he 
was a young man.” So, yielding to the influ- 
ence of the stronger and more active mind, the 
son himself next became concerned in questions 


20 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


of the day, and for a time ceased to occupy 
himself with the family papers and contributions 
to the “* North American.” 

Curiously enough, the mutations of “ this 
whimsical world,” as he called it, had, during 
the congressional session of 1835, brought J. Q. 
Adams into the support, at once vigorous and 
dramatic, of his victorious rival, now for the 
second time President. Towards Jackson, per- 
sonally, his feelings had undergone no ameliora- 
tion. The Tennessee frontiersman, soldier and 
politician, offended him from every point of 
view. “A barbarian and savage, who could 
scarcely spell his own name,” he had, as Presi- 
dent, violated both principle and precedent, de- 
grading “the offices of the heads of depart- 
ment into mere instruments of his will.” On 
the other hand, J. Q. Adams entertained deep- 
seated, almost passionate, convictions on certain 
fundamental points of national policy and con- 
stitutional construction ; and upon these points 
he now found the “ barbarian and savage,” who 
had supplanted him, standing forth as the un- 
mistakable champion of the policy for which he 
had labored and the construction in which he 
believed, with his own friends and natural allies 
united in an opposition purely political. The 
issues were three in number: — South Carolina 
nullification, known as *“‘ Calhounism ;”’ the com- 


EARLY LIFE 21 


plication with France arising out of the non- 
payment by that country of the indemnity for 
spoliations provided for in the convention of 
1831 between the two countries; and, finally, 
the constitutional issue between the President 
and the Senate over the executive power of ap- 
pointment to, and removal from, office. As 
respects these issues J. Q. Adams felt strongly. 
To quote his own language in a confidential 
letter to his son:—‘“I cannot reflect [upon 
these three subjects] in the aspect which they 
now bear, and in which they will probably be 
presented at the ensuing session of Congress, 
without deep concern and inexpressible anguish. 
It will be impossible, after the part that I have 
taken with regard to two of them—the im- 
pending foreign and domestic war — for me to 
dodge either of the questions. I led the House 
upon both of them in the last session. I can- 
not shrink from advising the House concerning 
them at the next.” 

To two of these three issues, — those involv- 
ing the probability of “foreign and domestic 
war,’ —it is unnecessary here to refer, for 
their further consideration by the father did not 
involve the son. It was otherwise with the third 
issue, that arising out of the participation of the 
Senate, through its power of confirmation, in 
the patronage, aud, by means of the patronage, 


22 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


in the most intimate executive functions of the 
government. J. Q. Adams had himself been 
President ; and, as President, he had grown to 
look with deepest apprehension on the tendency 
of the Senate, one branch of the legislative 
body, to arrogate authority to itself. His ex- 
perience and sagacity thus led him early to fore- 
cast what has since developed into a great con- 
stitutional evil, from that day to this of steady, 
portentous growth. So, for the moment putting 
aside the issue with France, and even nullifica- 
tion, as matters of minor consequence, — ** The 
Patronage Bill,” he wrote to his son, “is that 
upon which my feelings and my apprehensions 
are most intense. I can grind it to impalpable 
powder before any tribunal but that of Whig 
federalism, nullification, and ochlocracy; but 
that is precisely the combination against which 
I have to contend.” Perhaps it would have 
been as intelligible if, instead of “* Ochlocracy,” 
J. Q. Adams had here used the modern substi- 
tute for that term, ‘“ Democracy ;” but he was 
at the moment writing, not for publication, but 
familiarly. So, using such words and figures 
as first suggested themselves, he went imstine- 
tively back to the harassing, nerve-destroying 
trials of his own administration; and, in terms 
of invective as vehement as they were charac- 
teristic, proceeded to give his view of the slow 


EARLY LIFE 23 


genesis of this measure, and of its subtile and 
dangerous character as interfering with the con- 
stitutional allotment of functions. The history 
of the now forgotten Patronage Bill of 1835 can 
be briefly told. 

In view of the wholly unprecedented course 
pursued by Jackson in his distribution of offices, 
— the introduction in fact of the modern “ spoils 
system” into our politics, -— Mr. Calhoun, dur- 
ing the nullification excitement of 1835, reported 
a measure calculated to reduce the political in- 
fluence exerted by the Executive through its 
control of the public patronage. Unfortunately, 
however, this result, very desirable in itself, was 
reached through what Mr. Adams held to be the 
even more pernicious evil of making one branch 
of the legislative body a participant in the con- 
trol of that patronage. If this theory obtained, 
he saw clearly enough — he was told by his own 
experience — that office-peddling between the 
President and the Senate would become a recog- 
nized system, to the lasting deterioration of each 
asa branch of the government. In the ripeness 
of time, as history shows, exactly that result 
came about. Driving at once to the heart of 
this issue, Mr. Adams saw the thing in all its 
remote and latent bearings. Unfortunately, Mr. 
Webster, in his dislike and deep distrust of 
President Jackson, had -in the session of 1835 


24 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


made a speech in support of the Calhoun “ Pat- 
ronage Bill,” in which he indicated a dissent 
from the construction given to the Constitution 
in 1789, by which the power of removal from 
office was exclusively conceded to the President. 
His position was unquestionably not in the line 
of Federalist doctrine or authority; and, in as- 
suming it, he incurred the outspoken wrath of 
Jackson’s predecessor. After describing and de- 
nouncing, with a vehemence almost ludicrous, 
the combination — Calhoun, Clay, Webster, and 
White — which, on February 21, 1835, carried 
this measure through the Senate, he thus went 
on in his letter to his son: “The most utterly 
inexcusable [of this combination] because the 
most glaringly treacherous to his own professed 
principles is Webster. He is the only Federalist 
of the gang. The Constitution was the work 
and the highest glory of the Federal party. The 
exposition of it which declares all subordinate 
executive officers removable by the President 
was the hard-earned victory of the Federal ‘party 
in the first Congress. Without it the Constitu- 
tion itself would long since have been a ruin; 
and now Daniel Webster, the Federal Pharisee 
of the straightest sect, brought up at the feet of 
Gamaliel, betrays at once to nullification and 
Bentonism his party and his country, — tells 
the world that James Madison blundered in not 


EARLY LIFE 25 


knowing that by the Constitution of the United 
States the appointing power was vested in the 
President and Senate, that the executive power 
is no power at all, that no man can tell what is 
or is not executive power, and that Congress, if 
they please, may make a secretary of state or an 
attorney-general for life. 


“¢ Semper ego auditor tantum ? numquamne reponam ?’”? 


It is open to question whether J. Q. Adams 
here stated the position of Mr. Webster quite as 
accurately as he quoted Juvenal’s famous line ; 
but, however this may be, the fierce denuncia- 
tion produced its effect on his son. The seed 
this time fell on fertile soil. Once when the 
younger Oliver Wendell Holmes was discussing 
some revolutionary views of philosophy with 
Ralph Waldo Emerson, the transcendentalist 
advised the neophyte, in bringing out his ideas, 
to “strike at a king!’ —nothing less than de- 
throning the Stagyrite himself should satisfy. 
So, in this case, the younger Adams, then 
twenty-eight years old, and eager to distinguish 
himself, was incited by his father to assail on a 
vital constitutional issue the great ‘“ Defender 
of the Constitution,’ then fresh from his tri- 
umph over Hayne. 

J. Q. Adams returned to Quincy early in 
June, 1835, and, during the months which fol- 


26 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


lowed, his son went to work, making, with his 
assistance and suggestions, a thorough study of 
the constitutional questions involved in the * Pat- 
ronage Bill.” The results, read by his father, 
were “returned with commendation more than 
enough,” and appeared during the summer in a 
series of communicated articles printed simulta- 
neously in the columns of the ‘ Boston Advo- 
cate”? and the ‘ Centinel.” In the autumn, 
after careful revision, they were published in 
pamphlet form, under the title, boldly appropri- 
ated from Burke, of “* An Appeal from the New 
to the Old Whigs, by a Whig of the Old 
School.” This effort of his younger days Mr. 
Adams always afterwards looked back upon 
with peculiar satisfaction ; and more than forty 
years later, when, under the administration of 
General Grant, the same question again pre- 
sented itself for discussion and copies of his 
pamphlet were in some request, after looking it 
over he laid it down, remarking on its vigor, 
and expressing the belief that he could not then, 
in his later and riper life, have done it so well. 
When published it was by some attributed to the 
father. “Mr. Woodbury” (then secretary of 
the treasury), wrote J. Q. Adams from Wash- 
ington at the end of the following November, 
“told me that he had read it, and that it was 
unanswerable. He said that he had perhaps 


EARLY LIFE 27 


voted [the other way] upon Mr. Benton’s pro- 
posed bill in 1826, but that the question had not 
been discussed upon its true principles. He said 
that no one could read the pamphlet without 
being convinced of the true intent of the Consti- 
tution. [said the pamphlet had been erroneously 
ascribed to me. I had not written a line of it, 
but I told him who was the author.” This 
denial was hardly necessary ; for the produc- 
tion, though in point and. vigor well worthy of 
the supposed author, bore none of his ear-marks, 
It was distinctly a better piece of work than he 
was capable of at that time and upon that topic; 
for, while in no way lacking in spirit and ear- 
nestness, it was more comprehensive, calmer in 
style, and, from the literary point of view, bet- 
ter ordered. There was in it less of that vehe- 
mence of tone, that eagerness for controversy 
and wealth of invective, which always marred 
the productions of the father, and which also, 
curiously enough, instead of being mitigated by 
years, grew ever upon him. 

To return to the son’s pamphlet: no reprint 
of the “ Appeal from the New to the Old 
Whigs” has ever been called for; but at the 
time and since, whenever the allocation of pow- 
ers under the federal Constitution has been in 
discussion, copies have been in request. Even 
so late as 1897, — sixty-two years after its pub- 


28 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


lication, — a brief note was received by a mem- 
ber of Mr. Adams’s family, from one of the 
Justices of the Supreme Court of the United 
States, saying that the old question was once 
more before that tribunal, that he had in vain 
sent to the Congressional Library for a copy of 
the pamphlet, and asking if one. could not be 
procured for him at Quincy. Though it caused 
no noticeable sensation, —the Patronage Bill 
of 1835 having then: already become a yester- 
day’s political excitement, — the Appeal when 
published was remarked upon for its research, 
its grasp of principle and vigor of statement, 
bringing the author, among other letters, one of 
kindly commendation from ex-President Madi- 
son. 

The “ Appeal from the New to the Old 
Whigs” thus secured for Mr. Adams what he 
then deeply hungered for, —a degree of personal 
recognition ; for, in entering upon life, he found 
himself overweighted by the great reputation of 
his grandfather and his father, while the latter 
also overshadowed him by instant prominence. 
The acts and utterances of the preceding gen- 
erations were ever on the lips of men, and they 
had neither knowledge nor expectation of that 
then rising. So when Mr. Adams thought “ to 
play off his own bat,” as Lord Palmerston would 
have expressed it, people, naturally enough, 





EARLY LIFE 29 


attributed the strokes to the veteran in the game. 
‘They say it is from my pen, but my father’s 
brain,” the younger man wrote of the “ Appeal,” 
in 1835; and, indeed, it was not until he was 
over fifty that Mr. Adams fairly succeeded in 
asserting his right to be considered as something 
more than the son of his father. 

The great political issue of his generation, 
the issue over African slavery, the agitation of 
which, really beginning to make itself felt only 
in 1835, was not to culminate for twenty-five 
years, had not up to this time (1835) apparently 
attracted the notice of Mr. Adams; at least, 
he makes no mention of it. The publication 
of the “ Liberator” was begun in 1831, and 
in October, 1835, Garrison was mobbed in 
Boston. At that time he represented nothing 
but an idea, — the first faint movement of an 
awakening public conscience ; but it is curious 
to notice the instinctive correctness with which 
the great slave-power and its affiliations divined 
impending danger. Not guided by reason, their 
anger and alarm were out of all proportion to 
the apparent menace; but at the first whisper 
of attack they, like some fierce wild beast of 
prey scenting harm from afar, bristled up sav- 
agely and emitted an ominous growl. 

On the other hand, the gradual growth of 
the anti-slavery sentiment, the arousing of the 


30 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Puritanic, New England conscience not less in- 
grained in Mr. Adams than in his father, as 
from time to time now set down in his record, 
is an instructive study, suggestive of what was 
then quite generally going on. On August 
20th, just two months before the Garrison mob, 
he notes: “The town is full of the abolition 
projects and the meeting to be held to counter- 
act them. ‘This takes place to-morrow night at 
Faneuil Hall; the application is signed by most 
of our respectable citizens. I am glad I have 
nothing to do with it.” A few days later, Sep- 
tember 8th, speaking of one of a series of com- 
munications he was then making to a newspaper, 
he says: “ The last takes up the recent excite- 

ment about slavery and abolition, a subject | 
which it might be wiser not to touch.” Of the 
Garrison mob, six weeks afterwards, he merely 
remarks that, “among other things, we have 
had a mob to put down abolitionists, as if the 
country was not going to pot fast enough with- 
out extraordinary help.’’ Then presently : “ The 
news from Washington is that the question of 
slavery is driving everything else out of view. 
My father has opened upon it, rather to my re- 
gret though not to my surprise. The excitement 
seems to be so intense as to threaten the worst 
consequences.” A month later comes the de- 
spairing groan: “ My father at Washington is 


EARLY LIFE 31 


in the midst of a painful struggle, which his 
unfortunate permanency in public life brings 
upon him. My judgment was not mistaken 
when I dissuaded him from it. But, as he is in 
it, I must do my best to help him out.” This 
resolve on the part of the son was certainly 
commendable ; though it is to be feared that, 
if the father had been able to find no other 
resource in the difficult position in which he 
had then placed himself, his danger would have 
been extreme. Fortunately, on this, as on divers 
subsequent occasions, he proved quite sufficient 
in himself; and when, a few weeks later, he 
emerged in triumph from the conflict, with the 
floor of the Representatives Hall strewed thick 
with discomfited opponents, the son could only 
remark: “It is singular how he continues to 
sustain himself by the force of his mere abil- 
ity.” From that time forward, however, the 
* T-told-you-so ” refrain was no longer heard. 
The anti-slavery educational footprints are 
next found in entries like the following: “ Fin- 
ished this morning Dr. Channing’s pamphlet 
upon slavery. It is certainly a very powerful 
production, and worthy of deeper consideration 
than it has yet been in the way of receiving. 
Our fashion here is to vote a man down at 
once without hearing his reasons. This saves 
much trouble, and dispenses with all necessity 


32 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


for argument. Dr. Channing may not be wise 
to encroach upon a political field, but what he 
says may have much weight without considering 
the author.” The man, so far as he had now 
got, showed the influence of environment, — it 
was still questionable “ propriety ” on the part 
of a minister of the church of Christ to express 
any views on man’s property in man! By the 
following July he himself had begun to write 
on the subject in the ‘ Boston Advocate.” “ In 
my own opinion it is the best thing I ever wrote ; 
but whether it will meet with much approbation 
in the world is more than doubtful to me.” A 
few months later, when his sentiments were 
asked for, he said: “* While I entirely dissented 
from the abolition views respecting the District 
of Columbia, I was yet clearly in favor of dis- 
cussion, and would by no means give to the prin- 
ciple of slavery anything more than the tolera- 
tion which the Constitution has granted.” This 
position certainly could not be regarded as ex- 
treme. Events, however, moved rapidly. His 
father next had, “as usual, fallen into a great 
trouble,” rousing ‘ the passions of the Southern 
members to the boiling point.” This was the 
somewhat famous occasion when Mr. Adams, 
from his place in the House of Representatives, 
inquired of the Speaker as to the disposition 
which would, under the rules of that body, be 


EARLY LIFE 33 


made of a petition purporting to come from 
slaves. The result of the contest thus precipi- 
tated was again extremely disastrous to the as- 
sailants of Mr. Adams, who found themselves 
badly scalded at his hands by the overflow of 
their own “ boiling passions ;” and two days 
later the son wrote: ‘*The uproar in Congress 
has ceased, and my father has carried the day. 
I hope he will use his victory in moderation.” 
The months then rolled on, and in November, 
1837, came the news of the Alton riot with the 
brutal murder of Lovejoy. It was the legiti- 
mate outcome of the Garrison mob of two years 
earlier, and the distant forerunner of border 
ruffian outrages twenty years later; it was also 
fuel to the kindling flame. Even when young 
Mr. Adams was a cold man outwardly, and not 
quick to move; but once fairly in motion he 
was apt to be impetuous. Accordingly, when 
now the Boston city fathers undertook to refuse 
the use of Faneuil Hall on the application of 
Dr. Channing and others for a public meeting 
to protest against mob-rule even in Illinois, Mr. 
Adams wrote: “ The craven spirit has got about 
as far in Boston as it can well go. I had a warm 
argument in Mr. Brooks’s room with two or 
three of my [wife’s] connections there. They 
are always of the conservative order, and I can- 
not often be.” The following day, after listening 


34 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


to a sermon in which he traced a disposition to 
deprecate the excitement over “the case of this 
Lovejoy,” he met one of his brothers-in-law, who 
intimated some degree of sympathy with his 
views; and, recording this surprising fact, he 
insensibly made use of a form of speech subse- 
quently very familiar: ‘“ We are not all broken 
in to the cotton interest then.” 

The following Friday the Faneuil Hall meet- 
ing was held, — the meeting at which Wendell 
Phillips, then a young man of twenty-six, made 
his memorable first appearance as a public 
speaker. Mr. Adams went :— ‘The hall was 
very full, and not much time was needed to show 
that two parties existed in it. Dr. Channing 
was speaking when I went in. He looked to 
me somewhat agitated and anxious; but his 
manner was slow and drawling, which produces 
more effect in the pulpit than here. His speech 
seemed to be a kind of justification of himself 
in moving the public meeting and in preparing 
the resolutions, which he said he expected and 
wished to be known [as his] here and every- 
where. He was followed by G. S. Hillard, who, 
in a brief and well-turned speech, explained the 
ground of the public meeting. Thus far things 
were quiet; but Mr. James T. Austin thought 
proper to put in a bar to the proceedings. It 
did not seem clear to me what good object he 


EARLY LIFE 35 


could have had, for he produced no substantial 
course, and limited himself to insulting the mo- 
tives and proceedings of the abolitionists. This 
was easily enough done in a city corrupted heart 
and soul by the principles of slavery, and with 
a@ majority present almost ready to use force to 
bear him out, if necessary, right or wrong. His 
argument was that the mob of Alton was justi- 
fied by the case. Lovejoy was acting against the 
safety of the people of Missouri, in a place on 
the border of the State where the law of that 
State could not touch him; that, the laws of 
two States thus conflicting, in a case of immi- 
nent danger the people rose up in their might 
and decided for themselves. ‘They did in this 
case no more than our ancestors, who threw 
overboard the tea in Boston harbor, — and who 
thinks of censuring them for a riot? The fact 
of a clergyman’s falling only showed that a 
clergyman was out of his place when meddling 
with the weapons of the flesh, and that he died 
as the fool dieth. The course of the abolition 
party was like that of a man who should insist 
on the liberation of the wild animals of a mena- 
gerie. Such was the substance of a speech in 
Faneuil Hall in 1837 of the attorney general 
of Massachusetts, applauded at every sentence 
by a large and powerful party of respectable 
men! I confess my nerves did not stand it very 


36 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


well; and, from that moment, I went with the 
meeting. A young Mr. Phillips followed with 
some very spirited and ready remarks, which 
were too stinging not to arouse the feeling of 
the opponents, and more than once I thought 
strong symptoms of a riot to be impending. 
But he finished quickly, and Mr. Bond got up 
with a mild view of the whole course of pro- 
ceeding, full of moderation and good practical 
sense. The resolutions were then voted, though 
not without opposition, and adjourned. On the 
whole, it was the most excited public meeting I 
was ever present at; and, I confess, nothing 
could exceed the mixed disgust and indignation 
which moved me, at the doctrines of the learned 
expounder of mob law.” 

As they worked up their new theory for put- 
ting, through riot, a stop to discussion, “ the 
friends of law and order” were at that time 
manufacturing anti-slavery sentiment rapidly. 
So a fortnight later Mr. Adams noted that his he- 
reditary and college associate and friend, young 
Edmund Quincy, had ‘“ come out a warm aboli- 
tionist, his letter being published in the ‘ Libera- 
tor,’ and he having made a speech last evening ;” 
and added, with a touch almost of sadness: 
‘ ] wish I could be an entire abolitionist; but 
it is impossible. My mind will not come down 
to the point.” So the result showed. In that 


EARLY LIFE 37 


contest he had his place; but not amid the sharp 
spattering fire of the skirmish line. His place 
was just behind that fire, in the front rank of 
the solid, advancing array of battle. To this 
conclusion he himself had evidently come when, 
during the following spring, he passed a month 
in Washington. The fraudulent ‘ Cherokee 
Treaty ” was then under debate. One day he 
wrote: “News from Philadelphia of the de- 
struction by a mob of the hall lately erected 
for free discussion. Such is the nature and ex- 
tent of American liberty ;’’ and, shortly after- 
wards, speaking of the House of Representatives: 
*“ We heard first General Glascock, and then 
Mr. Downing, a delegate from Florida, the lat- 
ter violent and savage. A strong proof of the 
debased moral principle of the House may be 
found in the fact that such a speech as this 
could be listened to with even tolerable patience. 
It is slavery that is at the bottom of this. I 
am more satisfied of the fact every day I live; 
and nothing can save this country from entire 
perversion, morally and politically, but the pre- 
dominance of the abolition principle. Whether 
this will ever take place is very doubtful. I 
have not much hope.” Then on May 29th, be- 
ing still in Washington, he adds: “ Much talk 
of an insurrection of the blacks, supposed to be 
about to break out at eleven o’clock this night, 


38 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS © 


instigated by an abolitionist from New York or 
elsewhere. ‘The alarm of the whites sufficiently 
shows the horrors of the slavery system, without 
the need of exaggeration. Their fears magnify 
their own danger, and this produces all the vio- 
lence they dread. I imagine the whole story 
grows out of a very small affair; but such is 
the character of the whites that it may not im- 
probably lead to bad consequences. My mother 
and the family are always apprehensive at such 
times of the possible direction of the public feel- 
ing against my father, for having taken so much 
part in the matter. I hope she has no cause.” 
Slavery, however, did not yet occupy the 
mind of Mr. Adams to the exclusion of all other 
political topics. That time was coming; it had 
not yet come. Questions connected with cur- 
rency and revenue were meanwhile under con- 
stant discussion,— for those were the days of 
the battle over the United States Bank, Jack- 
son’s removal of the deposits, the sub-treasury 
scheme, and the devastating commercial panic 
of 1837-38. Upon all these topics, now abso- 
lutely devoid of interest, Mr. Adams was an 
active thinker and constant contributor to the 
newspapers. Series after series of articles from 
his pen appeared in the ‘“ Boston Centinel”’ and 
*“* Advocate ;”? and that they attracted so little 
attention, failing to take the world at once by 


EARLY LIFE 39 


storm, was to him, as to most other ambitious 
young writers before and since, matter for sur- 
prise, and almost, if not quite, of grievance. 

As an interlude in these occupations Mr. 
Adams, having at last abandoned in despair all 
hope of interesting his father in that sacred 
duty, was slowly overhauling the family manu- 
scripts; and while doing so, he came across the 
yellowing files of Revolutionary correspondence. 
“ A packet I opened,” he wrote one day, “ con- 
tained the love letters of the old gentleman in 
1763-66, just before his marriage. They were 
mostly written during the three or four weeks 
when he went up to Boston to be inoculated for 
the smallpox. The subject is, of course, an odd 
one for lovers, but they both seem so honest and 
simple-hearted in discussing it.’ And again: 
“ With what a mixture of feelings do I look 
over these old papers. They contain the secret 
history of the lives of a single couple. Joy and 
sunshine, grief and clouds, sorrow and storms. 
The vicissitudes are rapid, the incidents are in- 
teresting. Happy are those who pass through 
this valley with so much of innocence. Vice 
stains no one of these pages.” At last the 
father, evidently in consequence of the talk of 
the son over what his researches had brought 
to light, suggested to him the idea of writing 
a biography of his grandmother. “I do not 


40 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS © 


know that this would be beyond my ability,” 
Mr. Adams modestly wrote; and so he set to 
work upon it. 

Early in May, 1840, the copy for the “ Let- 
ters of Mrs. Adams” was submitted to James 
Brown, then the leading publisher of Boston, 
who at a glance took in the value of the pro- 
posed book, and “ strongly recommended going 
right on;”’ so it went to press at once. In Au- 
gust the memoir of Mrs. Adams, which was to 
accompany it, was completed, and the hesitating 
author submitted it to his wife; who, with more 
frankness than literary discernment, pronounced 
it “wordy and conceited, and recommended its 
being wholly cut down and written over;” 
whereat, observed Mr. Adams, “I go on rather 
under discouragement.” The “ discouragement ” 
was, under the circumstances, not unnatural, but 
fortunately proved uncalled for. Published 
early in October, the success of the ‘ Letters ” 
was immediate and, for a book of the kind in 
those days, phenomenal. The first edition was 
exhausted almost at once, and a second of fif- 
teen hundred copies was called for, which was 
eagerly taken up as fast as it came from the 
press; for, of the first batch of two hundred 
copies, nearly all were sent away ‘‘to supply 
orders from the South, and the remainder were 
sold [over the counter] before twelve o’clock.” 


EARLY LIFE 41 


Deeply gratified as he was at the success of 
this his first literary venture, Mr. Adams would 
have been more gratified yet could he have read 
the subsequent diary record of his father; for 
J. Q. Adams was not a demonstrative man, and 
rarely, except when communing with himself, 
gave expression to his inmost feelings. So 
now, on Sunday, September 27, 1840, he wrote 
that, attending, as was his wont, divine service 
in the afternoon, whereat a certain Mr. Motte 
preached upon the evidences of Christianity 
from the text, John xx. 31, “ my attention and 
thoughts were too much absorbed by the vol- 
ume of my Mother’s Letters which my son has 
published, and of which he sent me this morn- 
ing acopy. An admirable Memoir of her life 
written by him is prefixed to the Letters, and 
the reading of it affected me till the tears 
streamed down my face. It disabled me for all 
other occupation, and the arrears of this diary 
and the sermon of Barrow were forgotten.” 


CHAPTER III 
THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 


THOUGH now in his thirty-fourth year, Mr. 
Adams had'up to this time evinced no desire to 
enter active public life. A nomination to the 
Massachusetts legislature was offered him in 
1839; but, though equivalent to an election, he 
had declined it. Governor Everett, Isaac P. 
Davis, a warm political and personal friend of 
Mr. Webster, and Robert C. Winthrop, then 
speaker of the Massachusetts House of Repre- 
sentatives, all spoke of this to J. Q. Adams, 
expressing their regret ; and he earnestly remon- 
strated with his son. It was too late to recon- 
sider the matter that year; but when, in 1840, 
a nomination was again offered him, yielding to 
the very distinctly expressed wish of his father, 
Mr. Adams accepted. It was the year of the 
famous 1840 “ Log Cabin” and ‘“ Hard Cider” 
presidential campaign — probably the most ridic- 
ulous, and, so far as political discussion was con- 
cerned, the lowest in tone, the country has ever 
passed through. As its result, Martin Van 
Buren was voted out of the presidential chair, 


THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 43 


and William Henry Harrison into it,—for the 
period of one month. He was then succeeded 
by John Tyler. In this campaign Mr. Adams 
acted with the Whig party; in 1836 he had 
voted for Van Buren, though “horrified” by 
that gentleman’s support, in the Senate, of “ the 
bill to suppress incendiary publications.” He 
had then looked upon the New Yorker “as a 
choice of evils;”’ and it shows the rapid advance 
of the anti-slavery sentiment in the mind of Mr. 
Adams, that he now, four years later, wrote: 
“ Mr. Van Buren bids fair to have in the free 
States but the seven electoral votes of New 
Hampshire. So much for ruling the North by 
party machinery. So much for the Northern 
man with Southern principles. May this year’s 
experience bea lesson to all future politicians 
who sacrifice the interests that ought to be most 
dear to them, for the sake of truckling to slave- 
holders.” 

The representatives from Boston to the Mas- 
sachusetts General Court, some forty in number, 
were in those days elected on a general ticket, 
the utterly pernicious district system not having 
yet been substituted for the original New Eng- 
land town representation; and the complete 
groundlessness of the lamentations Mr. Adams 
was at this period of his life wont to indulge in 
over supposed family and personal unpopularity 


44. CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


must have dawned on his mind when, three days 
after the election, he wrote: ‘‘The ‘Daily Ad- 
vertiser’ of this morning tells us that I have 
received the highest number of votes on the 
ticket for representatives.” A few days later 
came a letter from his father, written just after 
reaching Washington. It closed with this para- 
graph: “ You are about to enter on the career 
which is closing upon me, and I feel much more 
solicitude for you than for myself. You have 
so reluctantly consented to engage in public life, 
that I fear you will feel too much annoyed by 
its troubles and perplexities. You must make 
up your account to meet and encounter opposi- 
tion and defeats and slanders and treacheries, 
and above all fickleness of popular favor, of 
which an ever memorable example is passing 
before our eyes. Let me entreat you, whatever 
may happen to you of that kind, never to be dis- 
couraged nor soured. Your father and grand- 
father have fought their way through the world 
against hosts of adversaries, open and close, dis- 
guised and masked; with many lukewarm and 
more than one or two perfidious friends. ‘The 
world is and will continue to be prolific of such 
characters. Live in peace with them; never 
upbraid, never trust them. But — ‘don’t give 
up the ship!’ Fortify your mind against dis- 
appointments — zequam memento rebus in arduis 


THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 45 


servare mentem,— keep up your courage, and 
go ahead !”’ 

Mr. Adams remained five years a member of 
the Massachusetts legislature, — three in the 
House of Representatives, two in the Senate. 
In those days its individuality had not been 
wholly reformed out of the constitution of Mas- 
sachusetts, and the House still represented the 
towns, as the Senate did the counties, of the 
Commonwealth. Both were elected annually, 
and by a majority vote; the House being a 
large popular body of some four hundred mem- 
bers, while the Senate numbered only forty. 
As the delegations from the large cities and 
towns were chosen on a general ticket, more or 
less men of prominence, especially from Boston, 
were almost sure to be sent to the lower house, 
while the Senate was apt to be made up of mem- 
bers having at least a county reputation. The 
narrowing influence of the district and rotation 
systems was yet to make itself felt. 

As Mr. Adams wrote, when first mentioned 
in connection with it, the place of a representa- 
tive in the Great and General Court of Massa- 
chusetts is ‘“‘one of little consequence ;” and 
yet it is not too much to say that his election to 
that place in 1840, at the age of thirty-three 
years, was the turning point in his life. The 
educational influence of his subsequent legisla- 


46 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS > 


tive service was immense, — that of Harvard 
College and of the law were, for him, as nothing 
to it; for this took him out of himself, brought 
him in hard contact with others, widened his 
vision, developed his powers, gave him confi- 
dence in himself. He ceased to be wholly in- 
trospective and morbid ; becoming less of a stu- 
dent, he grew to be more of aman. Gradually 
and insensibly he came to realize that no preju- 
dice, either personal or because of family, really 
existed towards him; but, on the contrary, the 
great mass of the community actually felt an 
interest in him and a kindliness to him because 
of his name and descent, — an interest and a 
kindliness which, had he himself possessed only 
a little of the sympathetic quality, had he been 
only a degree less reserved in nature and repel- 
lent in manners, would have found expression, 
then and afterwards, in ways which could not 
have been otherwise than grateful to him. 

As the self-assigned limit to this form of pub- 
lic service was in 1845 drawing to a close, Mr. 
Adams wrote: ‘ After all, the legislation of one 
of our States is a fatiguing business, — there is 
a very large amount of small topics of detail. 
As a school of practice it may answer very well 
for a time, but perseverance in it has a tendency 
to narrow the mind at last by habituating it to 
measure small things. I have endeavored as 


THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 47 


far as possible to avoid this effect by keeping 
myself on topics of general concern.” This was 
strictly true; and not without ground did he, 
for his own satisfaction, record a belief that his 
legislative action had influenced the course of 
political events, and given him a certain degree 
of reputation, not only in Massachusetts but in 
the country at large. ‘“ My position, and I may 
say it here [in my diary] without incurring the 
charge of vain-glory, has been earned by hard 
and incessant labor, in opposition to popular 
opinion and to the overshadowing influence of 
my father. ‘The records of the State show that 
during the five years I have not been wholly 
idle. The report on the [northeastern] boun- 
dary, the passage of the districting bill, the 
repeal of the remnant of the slave code, the 
protest against the salary bill, the report and 
law on the Latimer case, the policy concerning 
Texas, and this South Carolina matter will re- 
main to testify for me when Lam gone. In all 
of them my belief is that the same general prin- 
ciples will be visible.” Finally, on the 26th of 
March, 1845, the day upon which the last legis- 
lature in which he ever sat was prorogued, refer- 
ring to the close of its business, he exultingly 
wrote : “ My resolutions placing the Whig party 
and the State on the basis of resistance to slav- 
ery in the general government, passed the House 


48 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


by a vote of five to one, and constitute, as it 
seems to me, a fair termination of all my labors. 
No proposition of mine has failed since I have 
been there ; nor have I on the whole committed 
any error deserving to degrade me in my own 
estimation or that of the public. My defects of 
temper and excessive impetuosity have now and 
then brought me into error, which I have re- 
pented. I parted company with the other sen- 
ators with feelings of regret and good-will.” 
The record was indeed creditable, and, for 
a State legislature, in some ways remarkable; 
for five of the seven subjects which had chiefly 
occupied his attention, and in respect to which 
the final statute-book record had taken its shape 
from him, involved national issues which have 
left their mark on history. These were (1) the 
question of the northeastern boundary, settled 
by the Ashburton treaty of 1842; (2) the law 
authorizing the marriage of persons of differ- 
ent color; (8) the Latimer fugitive slave case ; 
(4) the controversy arising out of the expulsion 
of Mr. Hoar from South Carolina by the mob 
of Charleston ; and (5) the resistance to the an- 
nexation of Texas. All of these questions are 
now past history,— all save only mere prelimi- 
naries, remote educational stages, to the great 
conflict of twenty years later: but, at the time, 
they had their importance; and each of them 


THE MASSACHUSETTS LEGISLATURE 49 


has left its literature, now rarely disturbed, — 
and, when disturbed, exciting only a languid 
interest. One day in the early summer of 18338, 
Mr. Adams busied himself in sorting over and 
arranging the accumulation of pamphlets in the 
mansion at Quincy. ‘A large collection,” he 
wrote; “many good ones, and many very flat, 
stale and unprofitable. Perhaps it is one of the 
most singular subjects we have to speculate on, 
the feeling with which one examines the effu- 
sions, personal, political, and miscellaneous of 
past times. All dead and buried in the tomb 
of the Capulets. All the evidences of the rest- 
lessness of the human mind.” To these have 
since been added Mr. Adams’s own discussions 
of the several issues, then very burning, which 
have just been enumerated. They here call for 
no further mention. 


CHAPTER SLY 
THE ‘* BOSTON WHIG ”’ 


“ WEDNESDAY, 20 May, 1846:— Went up 
by agreement to see Mr. Palfrey, and consult 
with him about the matter of the newspaper. 
We finally decided on calling a meeting of those 
who may be considered as likely to favor the 
measure, for Saturday morning at 10 o’clock.” 

“ Saturday, 23d May, 1846 : — Called at the 
State House on Mr. Palfrey,! and went with 
him up to Lobby No. 13, where were assembled 
the persons I had suggested as fit to be con- 
sulted at the present crisis. Stephen C. Phil- 
lips, John G. Palfrey, Charles Sumner, Henry 
Wilson and myself. I laid before them the 
state of my negotiation with the printers, and 
the terms which had been drawn and accepted. 
Much discussion ensued. Mr. Phillips seemed 
more doubtful of the expediency of the project 
than any of us. He apprehended ugly discus- 
sions, growing out of the complicated condition 


1 John G, Palfrey at this time held the position of secretary 
of the Commonwealth; and the office of that functionary was 
then in the west wing of the State House. 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 51 


of our foreign affairs. Mr. Palfrey seemed 
earnest to goon. Mr. Wilson, the same. Mr. 
Sumner also. The two last, however, could not 
aid in money. It then fell between us three. 
Mr. Palfrey agreed to assume one fifth; I took 
two fifths; and Mr. Phillips, not without some 
hesitation, the balance. The general result was 
to go on; so here I am about to assume a very 
great risk.” 

Such is the record, made at the time by Mr. 
Adams, of a somewhat memorable meeting. 
The little group of men thus brought together 
in “State House Lobby No. 13” had very 
faint if, indeed, any conception of the fact, but 
the business they had in hand was nothing less 
than planting the seed from which, in due order 
of events, was to spring the Republican party 
of Massachusetts,— indeed it might almost be 
said, the Republican party of the United States. 
In other respects, also, the group was noticeable ; 
for three out of the five persons who made it up 
had before them eminent public careers in con- 
nection with events of great historical moment ; 
_ while, of the remaining two, one was to achieve 
a lasting reputation as the historian of New 
England. They were all still comparatively 
young men ; Palfrey, the eldest, being just fifty, 
while Wilson was but thirty-four. Sumner, 
born in 1811, was a year older than Wilson ; 


Wak Hl 1th. Galachirs 


52 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Mr. Adams was not yet thirty-nine. The last 
three were destined, during the memorable war 
which was to result from the success of the po- 
litical party into which they were that day 
breathing life, to represent Massachusetts in 
the national Senate, and the United States at 
the court of St. James. Stephen C. Phillips, 
aman then of forty-five, of great public spirit, 
most active and useful in the early days of the 
new party, shortly after withdrew from political 
work, and in 1857 lost his life in a steamboat 
disaster on the river St. Lawrence. He had 
then long ceased to be an active factor in the 
Massachusetts political situation. 

The years between 1860 and 1868 were so 
altogether cataclysmic, and the changes then 
worked so great,—during them the situation 
was, in a word, so wholly altered, — that the im- 
mediately preceding, and preparatory, period has 
already assumed an antediluvian aspect. Hence, 
it is not altogether easy even to understand 
the posture of political affairs prior to 1850, or 
the motives under which men acted, either in 
Massachusetts or the country at large. More- 
over, while a great deal of what then took place 
has been quite forgotten, the residuum, still re- 
membered, is remembered vaguely, and in the 
deflecting light of subsequent events. Thus 
what Mr. Adams and his four friends wanted 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 53 


on that 23d of May, 1846, is now not immedi- 
ately apparent; neither is it altogether clear 
whom they were opposing, or why they felt so 
pressingly the need of a newspaper. The fact 
was, their time had come. They were simply 
responding to a need in the process of political 
evolution. In spite of lamentations then, as 
always, freely indulged in over the apathy of the 
public mind and the hopelessly lethargic condi- 
tion of the popular conscience, the United States 
in 1846 was neither a moribund, nor yet even 
a decadent, country. It was, however, threat- 
ened with disease, and that of a very portentous 
character. A cancer was steadily eating into its 
vitals. Though few people, if indeed any, then 
realized it, the knife was in point of fact already 
necessary ; a surgical operation, and that a severe 
one, would alone meet the exigencies of the case. 
The only real questions were : — first, whether 
the patient could be brought to submit to the 
necessary operation; and, second, whether he 
would survive the operation if he did submit to 
it. Most fortunately, however, these unpleasant 
alternatives were not apparent either in 1846 
or, indeed, during the dozen or more years that 
ensued. The five men gathered on May 23, 
1846, in Lobby 13 of the Massachusetts State 
House certainly did not appreciate the gravity 
of the affair, or measure the distant, far-reaching 


54 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


results they were challenging. They took in the 
present situation only. That the case was bad, 
they knew. They saw clearly enough the pro- 
gress which slavery, as an institution, had al- 
ready made, and the rapidity with which it was 
advancing; but they did not fully appreciate 
the extent to which it had struck its roots into 
the national existence, much less realize the na- 
' ture of the conflict they were invoking. That, 
if they had realized it, they would, after a long 
pause and grave deliberation, have gone straight 
on in the path upon which they were entering, 
can hardly admit of question; but it does admit 
of very great question whether they could have 
induced the North to follow them in that path. 
The historical truth is, that in the great anti- 
slavery discussion which began in 1844 and cul- 
minated in 1860, the North never really believed 
that an appeal to force was necessary and inev- 
itable, until, in April, 1861, it found the country 
face to face with it. It certainly cannot be said 
that what then occurred had not been predicted. 
It had been predicted by numerous voices, on 
many occasions, in the clearest possible manner, 
and with all necessary emphasis; but. on the 
other hand, it is equally clear that those who 
predicted failed to see that, short of death by 
disease, there was no other way. 


What Mr. Adams and his associates did then 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 55 


clearly see and all they clearly saw, was the im- 
mediate work cut out for them to do. It was 
for them to rouse the country to a consciousness 
of the danger of the situation, and the conse- 
quences inevitably involved if events went on 
unchecked. They were mere agencies. To re- 
vert to the figure already used, their movement 
was, in the economy of nature, merely an in- 
stinctive effort of the body politic to contend 
against disease and throw it off. It was long 
an open question whether the effort would suc- 
ceed. That depended on the general health and 
vitality of the organization; for, in a politico- 
pathological sense, the health of a community, 
— its power to resist and overcome disease, may 
be said to be in almost direct proportion to its 
moral receptivity, —its tendency to altruism. 
Loyalty, patriotism, and even religious devotion, 
very admirable and potent in their way, are 
qualities of a much lower order. Indeed, these 
are found quite as fully developed in the savage, 
as in civilized, man: for barbarous Patagonian 
tribes, semi-developed Scotch clans, and states 
far sunk in Spanish decadence are conspicuous 
for them. When, however, in any given commu- 
nity, many individuals, regardless of ridicule, 
epithets, and denunciation, — shouts of “ fire- 
brand,” “fanatic,” and ‘“ traitor,” — revolt at 
wrong, or quickly respond to a cry of injustice, 


56 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


whether raised on behalf of a person or a class, 
— Jew, African, or Malay, —the presence of 
such individuals affords evidence incontroverti- 
ble of vitality in the community to which they 
belong ; and the quickness and volume of the 
response to their appeal measure not inaccu- 
rately the moral and political soundness of that 
community. During the period between 1830 
. and 1850 the tendency to what are known as 
‘‘isms”’ in the free States of the Union, and 
especially in Massachusetts and those of New 
England progeny at the West, was notorious. 
The land seemed given over to philanthropists 
and reformers of the kind generically classified 
as *“‘ cranks,”’ — long-haired men and short-haired 
women. Dickens, who was then here, depicted 
them, and made fun of them ; they shocked anti- 
slavery men like Richard H. Dana.! None the 
less, they were the unmistakable symptom of a 
redundant moral activity. They indicated a 
body politic full of quickening force. Had these 
not appeared, or had they been silent, had the 
United States as a whole then been in at all a 
decadent state, — in the condition, for instance, 
of the later Roman Empire, or of Turkey and 
Spain since the commencement of the seven- 
teenth century, — the attempt would unquestion- 
ably have failed. The appeal on behalf of the 
1 Biography of R. H. Dana, i. 68. 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 57 


African, —the despised “ nigger,” — wasted in 
the air, would have elicited no response, 

In 1845 the abolition movement had spent 
its force. Begun by Garrison in 1831 it had, 
in awakening the public conscience, done a great 
work, —a work wherein its success was in larg- 
est degree due to the almost insane anger which 
its utterances and actions aroused among the 
slaveholders. In other words, under the irrita- 
tion of those highly drastic applications, the dis- 
eased portion of the body politic became acutely 
inflamed. The whole system throbbed angrily, 
—almost suppurated. Thus the “ Liberty” 
movement, as it was called, was effectively adver- 
tised ; and, without that advertisement, Garri- 
son’s most strenuous and sustained efforts, and 
Wendell Phillips’s most eloquent and incisive 
utterances would never have reached beyond a 
narrow and in no way influential circle. After 
the presidential canvass of 1844, the situation 
rapidly changed, and the extra-constitutional 
abolition movement, as it had then declared it- 
self, did not thereafter increase either in force 
or in influence. On the contrary, it distinctly 
dwindled ; for, so far as concerned nationality, — 
the growing and intensifying spirit of Union, — 
the Garrisonians thenceforth preached non-re- 
sistance and self-destruction ; the two especial 
doctrines against which all the instincts of the 


58 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS. 


country rose in revolt. Thus, contending with 
the spirit of the age, the abolitionists met with 
the fate usual for those who engage in that con- 
test. Accordingly, from 1844 onward, one great 
effort of those who afterwards brought the con- 
flict to a practical, though to them wholly unan- 
ticipated, issue, was to distinguish their policy 
from that advocated by Mr. Garrison, and to 
. work the problem out within the Union and in 
subordination to the Constitution. It is, there- 
fore, historically a mistake to treat either Mr. 
Garrison or Wendell Phillips, after 1844, as 
leaders in the later and really effective anti- 
slavery movement, or, indeed, as political factors 
of consequence. By nature, as well as from long 
habit, irregulars, at home nowhere except on the 
skirmish line, very necessary in the earlier opera- 
tions, they, having brought on the conflict, had 
done their work; and when the solid lines of 
battle crashed together, their partisan operations 
ceased to count. Had they in 1845 wholly dis- 
appeared from the field, the result would have 
been in no way other than it was; for, by the 
country at large— those who had to be rea- 
soned with, educated, and gradually brought into 
line — Mr. Garrison was from 1844 to 1861 
looked upon as an impracticable, cracked-brained 
fanatic, and Mr. Phillips as a bitter, shrill- 
voiced, political scold. Not influencing results, 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 59 


they, like guerillas in warfare, were in the later 
stages of the contest quite as much a hindrance 
to those with whom, as they were an annoyance 
to those against whom, they acted. 

On the other hand, in the free States, as well 
as at the South, the old conventional anti-slavery 
feeling, — that handed down from the War of 
Independence and the Fathers of the Republic, 
and based in greatest part on sentiment and 
tradition, — was fast fading out. That African 
slavery, as an industrial institution, was not go- 
ing to die a natural death had become apparent. 
On the contrary, most vigorous and decidedly 
ageressive, it was visibly developing. There 
were in this or in any other country no more 
really useful, public-spirited citizens than the 
shrewd, energetic, clear-headed men, generally 
belonging to the Whig party, who now in Mas- 
sachusetts, arraying themselves instinctively in 
behalf of the Union and the Constitution, ear- 
nestly deprecated all agitation of slavery, as a 
political issue. They were right, also, from 
their point of view. With them the Union was 
supreme. ‘They rather disliked slavery, and 
still declaimed against it, averring their abstract 
abhorrence of it in certain phrases rapidly de- 
generating into cant; but it may fairly be said 
that there was no limit to the concessions they 
would ultimately have been willing to make as 


60 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS» 


the alternative to a disruption of the Union. 
Rufus Choate, for instance, argued earnestly 
that the return to slavery of a few fugitives 
from time to time was an insignificant sacrifice 
on that altar, as compared with the hecatombs 
inevitably to be sacrificed through civil convul- 
sion. Leaving honor and self-respect out of the 
question, he was unquestionably right; but with 
‘nations as with individuals, honor and self-re- 
spect are worth something. Accordingly, when 
at Cambridge, in June, 1851, Choate took occa- 
sion to enunciate this latter-day dispensation, 
the everlasting verities underwent no change. 


That 


‘‘ rightly to be great 
Is not to stir without great argument, 
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw 
When honor ’s at the stake,” 


remained just as true then as it was when 
Shakespeare wrote the words two hundred and 
fifty years before; or as, ten Junes later, it 
proved to many of those who listened to the 
eloquent advocate of honor’s effacement. In 
common with the great mass of the most re- 
spectable and comfortably circumstanced indi- 
viduals of the community to which he and they 
belonged, Mr. Choate failed to realize that the 
self-respect of a people could not but be more 
or less blunted, if they saw the land of boasted 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 61 


liberty in which they dwelt converted into a 
“nigger hunting-ground;” while they them- 
selves were from time to time called upon in 
ordered ranks to bear a hand in the work. At 
best it was repulsive, even though Union-sav- 
ing. Still, historically speaking, it is not unsafe 
to say that, between 1845 and 1852, there was 
no concession, so far as the “ peculiar institu- 
tion’ was concerned, at which the represent- 
ative leaders of the Whig party, North as well 
as South, would have stopped, provided dis- 
union appeared to be the alternative. If need 
be they would have submitted, under protest of 
course, to the complete nationalization of slav- 
ery. They would have held it the lesser of two 
evils. 

The fact here stated was recognized at the 
South by the exponents of the new gospel of 
slavery. Calhoun counted on it as the prime 
factor of success in the policy he now laid 
down. He was never a Disunionist; but he 
called on the South to bring the North face to 
face with a dissolution of the Union as the alter- 
native to unconditional submission. In present- 
ing this alternative he did not believe that it 
would lead to disruption, being firmly convinced 
that, with disruption certain to result from per- 
sistency, the North would consider no price too 
great to pay for a united, even though bickering, 


62 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


household. For, as he scornfully expressed it, 
“‘measureless avarice was its ruling passion.” 4 

In this belief the South Carolinian was, as 
South Carolina afterwards found, dreadfully 
mistaken ; but, for the time being, it did not so 
seem. Then and afterwards, Massachusetts was 
the storm centre; and in Massachusetts the anti- 
slavery movement, after 1844, assumed a wholly 
“new phase. It organized: and, while it became 
constitutional, became also distinctly opportunist 
and practical. It drew its inspiration from the 
Declaration of Independence, and sought, so far 
as African servitude was concerned, to convert 
the national government from a propagandist to 
a repressive agency. 

An organ — a newspaper — thus became ne- 
cessary ; for the new doctrine — after all a species 
of homeopathic faith-cure— must be voiced, 
and voiced constantly by those who believed in it. 
The situation, also, was becoming more and more 
grave. The admission of Texas had been finally 
consummated on December 22, 1845; and, on 
the 11th of May following, President Polk sent 
to Congress his message, at once famous and 
infamous, declaring that ‘“ War exists, and not- 
withstanding all our efforts to avoid it, exists by 
the act of Mexico itself.” A war of spoliation 
had thus been entered upon, — a war the pur- 

1 Von Holst, iii. 315-318. 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 63 


pose of which, whether avowed or not, was well 
known to be the propagation of slavery. The 
disease was in an obviously acute stage; the 
cancer was manifestly spreading. 

The President’s war message bore date May 
11th; the unnoticed, and apparently scarce note- 
worthy, meeting in State House Lobby No. 138 
took place just twelve days later, on the 23d, — 
a@ mere incident, it was, none the less, in a way 
the response to the great event; for, though it 
caused no loud or echoing reverberation, it was, 
as the event showed, the answering gun which 
signified an acceptance of the challenge. Mean- 
while, so far as Massachusetts, and more par- 
ticularly Boston, was concerned, the situation 
had been further complicated. On May 11th, 
Mr. Robert C. Winthrop, representing the Bos- 
ton district in Washington, had gone upon the 
record as voting in favor of the war measures 
at once reported to the House of Representa- 
tives in consequence of Polk’s message. In 
Massachusetts that vote of his was an event of 
far-reaching consequence. It made complete 
and permanent the division between the ‘* Con- 
science” and the “ Cotton” Whigs; and Mr. 
Adams was now to become the recognized 
mouthpiece of the former. 

So far as the establishment of a newspaper 
was concerned, the feasibility of so doing had 


64 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


for some time been under consideration. Dr. 
Palfrey advocated it earnestly; and the mére 
Mr. Adams thought of it, the more the idea 
took possession of him. In dead earnest now 
on the slavery issue, he had a strong inclination 
generally towards newspaper utterance. For 
years he had liked to set forth his views on cur- 
rent political topics in communicated articles, 
‘ usually, as was the custom in those days, run- 
ning into series, signed ‘ Publicola,”’ “* Junius,” 
“ Sagitta,” or the like. The trouble was that, 
with some little experience, not very encoura- 
ging, as an editorial writer, he had no knowledge 
whatever, or even conception, of editorial func- 
tions in the modern sense of the term. 

On the other hand, journalism in 1846 was in 
the plastic stage. In almost no aspect did it 
resemble what it has since become. In 1846, the 
electric telegraph was only two years old; the 
suburban railroad service was new and imperfect ; 
the street railway did not exist. People had not 
yet accustomed themselves to any of these neces- 
sities of modern existence, much less grown to 
depend upon them. A newspaper, accordingly, 
did not then imply its present organization and 
expense. It was a comparatively simple affair, 
usually the property and mouthpiece of one man, 
—jits editor and proprietor. In fact, it is now 
difficult to realize what a thing of yesterday the 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 65 


newspaper of 1846, though the progenitor of the 
modern newspaper, then itself was. The ‘ Ad- 
vertiser,” the first daily paper which had been 
able to sustain itself in Boston, dated only from 
the year 1813. The “Courier” followed in 
1824; and then came the “ Transcript” (1830), 
the “ Post” (1831), the “ Atlas” (1832), the 
“ Journal” (1833), and finally the “ Evening 
Traveller” (1845). The cheap one-cent paper, 
sold on the street or at the news-stand, was 
looked upon as an undignified publication, car- 
rying no weight. Among the high-priced, old- 
fashioned subscription ‘ blanket sheets,” the 
* Daily Advertiser’ — “the respectable Daily ” 
—meant Mr. Nathan Hale; the ‘ Courier,” 
Mr. Joseph T. Buckingham; and the “ Post,” 
Mr. Charles G. Greene. They were all organs, 
too; for independent journalism was only then 
assuming shape in New York, and the older 
and more established newspapers depended for 
their existence on the subscriptions, advertise- 
ments, and patronage of some mercantile interest 
or political organization. The “ Advertiser,” 
for instance, was inspired by Mr. Webster; the 
*¢ Post” was the recognized organ of the Jackson 
Democracy ; the ‘ Liberator” — a weekly paper 
—was the mouthpiece of Mr. Garrison and the 
extreme abolitionists. The circulation of that 
day would also now be considered almost ridicu- 


66 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


lously small. It is very questionable whether 
the subscription list of any of the sheets which 
have been named contained over four thousand 
names; while an annual net income of $20,000 
was thought enormous. A circulation of two 
thousand was looked upon as very respectable. 
The New York “ Evening Post,” for instance, in 
1842, printed two thousand five hundred copies ; 
-the noted and influential “Courier and Enquirer” 
only seven thousand ; while the “* Herald,” the 
great sensational journalistic innovator, could 
boast of but fifteen thousand. The influence of 
a paper was not, however, by any means mea- 
sured by its circulation; far less so, indeed, 
then than now: and hence in great degree, 
in the mind of Dr. Palfrey, the necessity as 
well as the feasibility of an organ. Between 
1840 and 1850 the local —what would in Eu- 
rope be called the provincial — press was vig- 
orous and potent. Rapid transportation had 
not yet laid down the journal of the great city 
on the doorsteps of every country town as 
promptly as the news carrier laid it down at 
those of the houses adjoining the press-room. 
So every considerable centre in Massachusetts 
had its paper, —its “ Argus,” its “Spy,” its 
“ Republican,” its “ Mercury,” its ‘ Courier,” 
— which again looked to the recognized Boston 
organ for its news and its inspiration. As Gar- 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 67 


rison had already demonstrated in the case of 
the ‘ Liberator,” a limited circulation by no 
means implied a correspondingly restricted in- 
fluence. 

Notwithstanding all this, the showing made to 
Mr. Adams by the publishers of the “ Whig”’ was 
the reverse of inspiring. “It” [the paper], he 
wrote, “‘is far from flourishing. It has but two 
hundred and twelve paying subscribers, and its 
debts run on all fours with its income.” It is true 
that only eleven years before this time the New 
York * Herald” had been launched on its won- 
derful career with cash resources of only $500 
behind it; and, more remarkable still, the 
‘Tribune ” had started out so recently as 1841 
with a borrowed cash capital of but $1000: but 
both these journals were backed by the enter- 
prise, energy, and experience of two of the most 
remarkable born journalists of the century, and 
they had been merely the prizes in a fascinating 
lottery which had turned up almost innumera- 
ble blanks. It is needless to say, also, that Mr. 
Adams had very few attributes in common with 
either James Gordon Bennett or Horace Gree- 
ley. He was rather modeled on the old-fash- 
ioned pattern of William W. Seaton and Nathan 
Hale, — types fast vanishing. He had abso- 
lutely no conception of the journal of the future, 
as it then loomed vaguely up; while for the 


68 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


work such a journal implied he was in every re- 
spect lacking. Nevertheless the editorship of 
the “ Boston Whig,” while it carried with it 
some danger of ignominious failure, did not 
involve any excessive pecuniary risk. It was 
only necessary to secure the few hundred dollars 
immediately needed to keep the concern afloat. 
This sum was forthcoming from the sources, 
’ and in the proportions, already indicated. So, 
on going to town from Quincy on June 1, 1846, 
Mr. Adams found himself “saluted with a 
great bundle of newspapers, the sign of a new 
vocation,” and, at the same time, read his own 
opening editorial. The “ Whig” was a blan- 
ket sheet, as it was called, of the pattern then in 
vogue. ‘Twenty-two inches by sixteen in size, 
one of its six-column pages was devoted to edi- 
torial matter and news, while the three others 
were filled with advertisements, with the excep- 
tion of a single column, the first of the first 
page, which contained the instalment of a serial 
story, or some other mild literary nutriment of 
that character. This was the form the “ Whig” 
had when Mr. Adams assumed editorial charge 
of it; and this form it retained until his con- 
nection with it ceased. A two-cent paper, with 
a subscription price of $5.00 per annum, Mr. 
Adams’s name nowhere appeared upon it as its 
editor; nor was he ever its proprietor. He re- 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 69 


ceived no compensation for his services ; in fact 
the paper, while under his editorial control, was 
never prosperous enough to pay any compensa- 
tion. 

The position assumed by the “ Whig” was, 
from the outset, simple. Remembering the dis- 
astrous results which followed the Birney move- 
ment in 1844, it was, in 1846, no believer in third 
parties as political factors; though, only two 
years later, in 1848, its action led to the forma- 
tion of a third party. But parties were merely 
the means to the attainment of political ends; 
and the end which the “ Whig” had in view 
was explicit. ‘Hither,’ it declared, “the pre- 
sent tide, which is carrying all of our institutions, 
excepting the forms, into a vortex of which 
slavery is the moving power, must be stayed by 
the people of the free States, or, if left to its 
course, it will bring on, in no very long time, a 
sudden and total dissolution of the bond of our 
Union. . . . We feel tolerably confident it may 
be avoided; but it can only be by one way. 
That way is the total abolition of slavery, — 
the complete eradication of the fatal influence it 
is exercising over the policy of the general gov- 
ernment.” 

Such was the attitude of the organ of the 
“Conscience”? Whigs of Massachusetts. The 
limits assigned to this sketch permit hardly more 


70 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


than a reference to the bitter controversies, per- 
sonal and political, which in Massachusetts 
between the years 1846 and 1856 marked the 
breaking up of the Whig party and the forma- 
tion of the Republican. The story is not lack- 
ing in interest ; but it has already in main been 
told both by Henry Wilson, himself an actor in 
it, and by Edward L. Pierce, not only an actor 
‘in it, but subsequently an untiring investigator 
of it. Upon it Mr. Adams’s contemporaneous 
record throws much additional light. The 
period was, too, not only important, but, as re- 
vealed in his papers, extremely interesting. It 
has its distinctly humorous, as well as tragic, 
side. There was in it a vast play of character, 
and of strong character, as J. Q. Adams, and 
Webster, and R. C. Winthrop pass off the stage 
and new men force their way upon it. They all 
tell their story, and often in their own words as 
well as by their acts; and while the earnest, 
angry, acrimonious debate goes on, the dark, 
ugly, ominous war-cloud rises and spreads in 
the distant background. It is absorbing, as 
well as impressive; but the narrative attains 
almost the dimensions of a history, and will not 
be compressed into a sketch. Its salient fea- 
tures only can here be referred to. 

In 1846, when the war with Mexico was en- 
gineered by the slave power, through the agency 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 71 


of President James K. Polk in firm possession 
of the national government, there were two 
Massachusetts public men of the first rank 
whose attitude, while of especial significance, 
was altogether uncertain, — Daniel Webster and 
Robert C. Winthrop. The course of the former, 
as subsequently developed during the next six 
years, is matter of familiar history. But it was 
with the course of the latter that Mr. Adams 
was more immediately concerned: for the vote 
of Mr. Winthrop in favor of the Mexican war 
bill during the previous May was already, in 
June, 1846, a burning issue ; and, as the months 
rolled on, it became steadily more so. In re- 
- gard to that vote Mr. Adams took occasion pre- 
sently to express himself in the columns of the 
“ Whig,” though not until two months were 
gone since it was cast. ‘ We know not, or care 
not, what the feelings of others may be upon the 
subject, or whether Mr. Winthrop may not be- 
come ten times more popular than ever for this 
act; but, according to the best estimate we can 
form of political morality, if he could expunge 
the record of it even by the sacrifice of the 
memory of all his preceding brilliant career, 
he would make a bargain. . . . Hither the pre- 
amble to the war bill tells the truth, or it tells 
what is not true. If it does tell the truth, then 
indeed are we all of us wrong, and no one is 


72 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


more wrong than Mr. Winthrop, in having here- 
tofore described the administration policy as 
inevitably bringing on a state of war on the 
part of Mexico. If, on the other hand, it does 
not tell the truth, how could Mr, Winthrop jus- 
tify it to his own conscience to set his name in 
perpetual attestation to a falsehood ?” 
America has never been looked upon as a 
‘ field conspicuous for a delicate journalistic re- 
gard for the amenities of political discussion ; 
but between 1840 and 1855 certain of the edito- 
rial writers —it was the “ We” period — set 
much store, in Boston at least, on what may 
perhaps best be defined as “tone.”’ It is need- 
less now to say that there was in this “tone” a. 
good deal of that which approximates closely to 
cant. A spade, after all,is a spade ; and, when 
referring to it, little is gained by describing it 
as an agricultural implement used in turning 
the soil. Mr. Adams, as respects slavery and 
the Mexican war, was thoroughly in earnest; 
and a man thoroughly in earnest is apt to be 
outspoken. Neither, until he fairly takes to 
vituperation, as, unfortunately, is altogether too 
frequently the case, is the editorial writer open 
to any just criticism because he makes use of 
language which does not allow his meaning to 
escape the reader. As to Mr. Winthrop’s vote 
of May 11, 1846, as a matter of policy on his 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 73 


part, much may be said in extenuation. None 
the less, the measure for which he that day voted 
had been unnecessarily and wantonly amended 
so as to declare that the war, for which it made 
provision, existed “by the act of the Republic 
of Mexico.” This was a falsehood. That it 
was a falsehood, and a flagrant, palpable, un- 
blushing falsehood, no man now denies; and 
history has not failed so to brand it.) Nor at 
the time was this disputed, except for hypoc- 
risy’s sake. Henry Clay, for instance, was an 
unquestioned authority in Whig circles, whether 
in Massachusetts or elsewhere ; but Henry Clay 
did not hesitate to describe that measure as “a 
bill with a palpable falsehood stamped on its 
face,” and almost passionately exclaimed that 
he “‘ never, never could have voted” for it. In 
like manner the “ National Intelligencer,” the 
official Whig organ, declared that the two 
Houses of Congress, in passing the bill with 
that declaration in it, gave “‘ the seal and sanc- 
tion of their authority to a false principle and a 
false fact.” Yet when Mr. Adams, writing edi- 
torially, asked the question how the Boston re- 
presentative in Congress could justify to his 
conscience thus setting “‘ his name in perpetual 
attestation to a falsehood,” the regular Whig 
papers of the city found their sense of propriety 


1 Von Holst, iii, 250-255, 


74 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


greatly shocked by language, which they re- 
ferred to as “rude and indecorous,” and, more- 
over, ‘‘ unfounded in truth.” 

The vigor and direct personal character of the 
assault were, it must be admitted, of a nature 
calculated to excite surprise in the breasts of 
the very respectable and altogether well-mean- 
ing and public-spirited gentlemen who now 
‘found themselves the object of almost daily at- 
tack ; but, on the other hand, subsequent events 
showed unmistakably that the measures resorted 
to, and the language used, were no more drastic 
and severe than the exigency called for. Ata 
grave crisis in political affairs the publie mind 
was lethargic, and it had to be aroused. No 
two citizens of Boston then stood higher in pub- 
lic estimation than Abbott Lawrence and Nathan 
Appleton. They stood, too, deservedly high ; 
for they were men of great business sagacity, 
high character, and of a public spirit which 
had been often in evidence. In fact there have 
not been before or since better examples of the 
strong, virile, adaptive, and resourceful stock 
which made and sustains Massachusetts. Solid 
and intelligent, they were representative men. 
As respects slavery, however, their views were 
of the sentimental and submissive order. It was 
a bad thing, they were wont to say, — very bad ; 
but one dangerous to agitate, especially from the 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 75 


business point of view; and, after all, no affair 
of theirs. Like honest Dogberry, having, as in 
the case of Texas, bid the “ vagrom” man stand, 
if he would not stand, they would then “ take no 
note of him, but let him go;” and presently 
thank God they were “rid of a knave.” Mr. 
Garrison boldly preached a dissolution of the 
Union as a remedy, and the only remedy, for 
the existing state of affairs. Mr. Appleton 
frankly believed that the so-called ‘* Con- 
science” Whigs were, as he expressed - it, 
“playing into the hands of the disunionists ;” 
and he intimated the strong desire he really felt 
to save “one of them,” meaning Mr. Sumner, — 
then looked upon in Beacon Street as a young 
man of uncommon promise, — from the courses 
and contamination into which he was then head- 
long rushing. Seeing things as he did, Mr. Ap- 
pleton frankly admitted that he held “all the 
evils of bad legislation and bad administration,” 
— including slavery, Texas, and the Mexican 
war, — “light, compared to those which must 
inevitably flow from a disruption of the States.” 
That, of course, settled the matter. The “ va- 
grom”’ man, when bid to stand, had but to 
refuse to do so, and they would forthwith “ take 
no note of him, but let him go.” And more- 
over, like Dogberry, Messrs. Lawrence and 
Appleton, and those who thought as they 


76 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


thought, would on this score make no noise in 
the streets; “for to babble and to talk” about 
slavery and other matters, which in no way con- 
cerned Massachusetts, was *“‘ most tolerable and 
not to be endured.” 

This way of looking at the situation did not 
commend itself to Mr. Adams. It had received 
practical illustration the preceding spring in 
‘the point blank refusal of Messrs. Lawrence and 
Appleton to put their names to the final remon- 
strance against the admission of Texas to the 
Union. This proceeding Mr. Adams had not 
forgotten ; and the “ Whig” at once proceeded to 
hold Messrs. Lawrence and Appleton personally 
to account. The latter had in his letter to the 
anti-Texas Committee used the expression that, 
to his mind, the Texas question had, as a result 
of the election of 1844, been “ for all practical 
purposes settled.” Dr. Palfrey now, in the col- 
umns of the “ Whig,” rang the changes on that 
expression. ‘ The question was settled! What 
if it had been? Did Massachusetts owe nothing 
then to her principles, her pledges, her charac- 
ter? Did she owe no record of honorable action 
to future history ? Have Mr. Appleton and his 
friends always reasoned thus? . . . The demon- 
stration of Mr. Appleton and his friends, com- 
ing, as it did, as unexpectedly as a thunderclap 
in a clear sky,” did much to embarrass and 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 77 


check “ the vigorous movement of the people,” 
then daily gathering momentum. Mr. Adams 
also a few days later added his opinion that, 
“when a gentleman of such standing in the cot- 
ton manufacturing interest as Mr. Appleton 
insults the founders of the Constitution so far 
as to maintain that ‘it is questionable whether 
the abolition movement is reconcilable with duty 
under it,’ we are driven to the conviction that 
he is not a safe guide in the construction of his 
neighbor’s duties either to his country or his 
God.” At the same time Mr. Adams took Mr. 
Lawrence in hand ina series of letters signed 
“ Sagitta,” addressed directly to him, after the 
manner of Junius. These also contained some 
vigorous specimens of style, — the following for 
example. Asamanufacturer Mr. Lawrence had 
evinced a deep interest in the tariff on wool. 
The remonstrance against the admission of 
Texas to the Union, Mr. Adams now wrote, 
*‘ simply asked the representatives of the Union 
not to sanction a form of government in Texas 
designed to make slavery perpetual there. And 
this petition you refused to sign on the ground 
that the question was already settled, at the very 
moment when you were ready to move heaven 
and earth to resist a change in the Tariff of 
1842. . . . You, who would not give a dollar 
to defend the rights of man, are announced as 


78 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


having paid the expenses of circulating twenty 
thousand copies of Mr. Stewart’s defense of 
sheep. . . . To sacrifice mankind, to fasten for- 
ever the galling chain around the neck of the 
black man, the other end of which, though you 
did not know it, was to press upon your own, 
you were not unwilling to agree beforehand. It 
was only for the sheep that you preferred to go 


- to the death.” 


Before Mr. Adams had been five months in 
charge of the “ Boston Whig” the issue between 
“ Conscience ” and “ Cotton” was defined. Mr. 
Winthrop’s vote of May 11th presented it; it 
was emphasized and embittered by a sharp cor- 
respondence, as yet unpublished, between him 
and Mr. Sumner, all the details of which were 
long subsequently recounted by Mr. Pierce ! and 
by Mr. Winthrop’s son.2, The Whig house was 
clearly divided against itself; which faction 
was the larger remained to be seen. The 
strength of the ‘ Conscience” element lay in 
the country; in Boston and the larger manu- 
facturing towns, the “Cotton” influence was 
more than dominant, it was supreme. The 
question of mastery was to be decided in the 
state Whig convention to be held in Faneuil 
Hall on September 23d. That convention was 


1 Life of Sumner, iii. 114-119. 
2 Memoir of R. C. Winthrop, 51-56. 


THE “BOSTON WHIG” 79 


memorable, marking, as it did, an epoch in the 
anti-slavery movement. In it Winthrop and 
Sumner struggled for the ascendency; and an 
issue was forced. Under the throes of upheaval 
from the young party of the future within it, 
the Whig house trembled to its foundations. As 
the day wore on, the traditional party magnates, 
alarmed by the strength the new movement de- 
veloped, and the courage and persistency of its 
leaders, appealed, as a last resort, to the per- 
sonal authority of Mr. Webster. IE. L. Pierce, 
in his life of Sumner, has given a detailed 
and striking account of what now took place, 
and still another account, too long for insertion 
here, is to be found in'the diary of Mr. Adams. 
Suffice it to say that no more striking scene was 
ever witnessed in Faneuil Hall. The entrance 
of Webster upon the stage was a veritable coup 
de théatre, admirably arranged and skillfully 
timed by the hard-pressed respectabilities of the 
organization. It worked also like magic. The 
tide was running strongly for ‘* Conscience,” 
and against “ Cotton,” when, late in the Sep- 
tember day, and after hasty conference among 
the gray-haired conservatives, Mr. Webster’s 
son, Fletcher, hurriedly left the hall. Presently 
he came back, and, whispering to Abbott Law- 
rence, who was seated on the platform, that 
gentleman rose and went out. When he came 


80 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


back, Daniel Webster was on his arm. The 
two walked slowly through the excited chamber. 
The debate had ceased in the presence thus 
evoked, and all parties rose and joined in a loud 
demonstration of applause. Without uttering a 
word the great Whig chieftain took his seat on 
the platform, — grand, gloomy, impressive. Not 
a word was necessary; his presence, thus her- 
alded, sealed the fate of the amendments moved 
by the “Conscience” faction, and then in de- 
bate. It was in the brief speech that followed 
the decisive vote — the “few generalities in- 
tended as a soother,” as Mr. Adams described 
them in his account of what occurred — that the 
great orator made use of a striking simile, since 
famous, which may well have been suggested to 
him by a figure of speech used only a few days 
before by Mr. Adams in an open letter to Mr. 
Lawrence: “Others rely on other foundations 
and other hopes for the welfare of the country ; 
but, for my part, in the dark and troubled uight 
that is upon us, I see no star above the horizon 
promising light to guide us but the intelligent, 
patriotic, united Whig party of the United 
States.” And this, delivered through the lips 
of Daniel Webster, was the answer of Abbott 
Lawrence to the challenge of ‘ Sagitta.” 


CHAPTER V 
THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 


THE Massachusetts canvass of 1846 resulted, 
as might naturally have been expected, in the 
total discomfiture of the “ Conscience” Whigs. 
With them it was as yet only the seeding time. 
The election that year took place on November 
10th ; and, as the outcome of the fierce and sus- 
tained assaults made upon him, Mr. Winthrop 
was triumphantly sent back to Congress from 
Boston. Dr. Palfrey, on the other hand, the 
*‘ Conscience’ Whig candidate for Congress in 
the adjoining Middlesex district, failed to se- 
cure a majority, though chosen some weeks later 
by a narrow margin of votes at a special elec- 
tion. “This is all of it very bad,” wrote Mr. 
Adams, ‘‘ and it depressed me much for the rest 
of the day.” But the depression of his friends 
he found even greater than his own, “ inasmuch 
as they attach more consequence to the immedi- 
ate result. Yet it is unpleasant to meet with a 
large majority of persons who disagree with you, 
and who are disposed to rejoice at your defeat. 
I am prepared for this with a good share of 
philosophy, and submit to it.” 


82 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Immediately after the election Mr. Adams 
accompanied his mother and his father’s family 
to Washington, leaving his father himself in 
Boston. - When on his way from New York to 
Philadelphia he saw in the newspaper the an- 
nouncement that J. Q. Adams had suffered a 
paralytic shock on the previous Thursday ; and 
it is noticeable as evidence of how very slowly 
information traveled in those days, only half a 
century ago, that information of an event of 
such public, and, to him, domestic interest, oc- 
curring Thursday morning in Boston, reached 
him only while leaving New York on Saturday, 
and then through the newspapers. Indulging 
in no delusive hopes of recovery, he realized the 
full extent of the loss. ‘ However light that 
blow may be,” he wrote on the day he heard of 
it, “ there it is; and, at eighty, not to be reme- 
died.” It so proved. 

A period of political gloom, as of domestic 
anxiety, now ensued. In spite of a languishing 
subscription list, the “* Whig,” with a firm front, 
persisted in its course; and when, the following 
autumn, the next annual convention of the Whig 
party was held, this time at Springfield, the 
struggle between the two factions was renewed. 
The as yet unwritten history of this gathering 
can here be no more than alluded to, though it 
still has an interest, and, at the moment, was of 


THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 83 


great historical significance. Mr. Webster was 
present in person, pleading for a nomination to 
the presidency. Winthrop and Sumner both 
were there, renewing their wrestle of the year 
before. George Ashmun, George T. Curtis, 
Charles Allen, Stephen C. Phillips, and Dr. 
Palfrey all figured prominently ; while Mr. Ad- 
ams outlined the policy and directed the opera- 
tions of the “ Conscience” element. Practically 
it resulted in a drawn battle. 

Though Mr. Webster on this occasion favored 
the convention with an address two hours in de- 
livery, his biographer has made no mention of 
the fact, notwithstanding he was himself a dele- 
gate and listener. The reason is obvious. Mr. 
’ Webster at that time was engaged in the difficult 
politico-acrobatic feat of endeavoring to ride two 
horses at once, they going in opposite directions. 
On the one side was the Southern wing of “ the 
intelligent, patriotic, united Whig party of the 
United States,” fast drifting into the pro-slavery 
Democracy ; on the other were the “ Conscience” 
Whigs of Massachusetts driving headlong to- 
wards the Republican organization of the future. 
Mr. Webster’s wish was to hold the two together 
in support of himself. That day he had to plead 
his cause before the ‘‘ Conscience”’ tribunal ; and, 
in doing so, he touched what proved for him the 
high-water mark of anti-slavery sentiment. He 


84 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


even claimed the famous “ Wilmot proviso” as 
his “thunder.” In return, he secured an indorse- 
ment, such as it was, for the presidential nomi- 
nation of the following year. In view of the 
course he subsequently pursued and his later 
utterances, the fact that Mr. Curtis ignored the 
incident in his biography affords no more occa- 
sion for surprise than that Mr. Webster’s re- 
marks are omitted from the authorized edition 
of his Speeches. 

Mr. Pierce refers briefly to the convention, in 
his biography of Sumner;! but that day Mr. 
Webster’s successor in the Senate did not score 
more of a success than Mr. Webster himself. 
Mr. Sumner’s speech had the merit of brevity, 
for him; but no other: and, as it appears in his 
“‘ Works,” ? it is characteristic of his worst style, 
— the overloaded, rhetorico-classical. Mr. Ad- 
ams wrote that, in delivery, it ‘sounded out of 
place and pointless.” The honors of the occa- 
sion belonged distinctly to Mr. Winthrop, who 
not only spoke several times, but carried his 
point, greatly to his own satisfaction ;° and for 
satisfaction, he had good cause. That day he 
made a long stride towards Whig leadership. 
“Sumner,” Mr. Adams wrote, was “the only 
one of our friends much depressed ;”’ though his 


1 Vol. iii. pp. 144-146, 2 Vol. ii. pp. 76-88. 
3 Memoir, p. 65. 


THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 85 


own speech in the convention, he added, was 
“ much resented by [ Mr. Webster’s] friends.” 

That day, there were two real points at issue ; 
one, the indorsement of Mr. Webster as the 
next presidential candidate of the Whig party ; 
the other, a resolution offered by Dr. Palfrey, 
and designed to preclude the support of Gen- 
eral Taylor. The former was carried in a per- 
functory, half-hearted way; the latter was voted 
down, though by a narrow majority only. But 
it was in regard to the latter that Mr. Winthrop 
exerted himself, and influenced the result. To 
every one but Mr. Webster, it was apparent 
that the Webster candidacy was a form only. 
General Taylor was the coming man; and Mr. 
Winthrop was now the Whig leader of the fu- 
ture. Thus the “ depressed” condition of Mr. 
Sumner’s mind was easily accounted for. Mean- 
while the Palfrey resolution had outlined the 
action of the “ Conscience” Whigs in a contin- 
gency which every day rendered more probable. 
An immediate split was impending in “ the 
intelligent, patriotic, [but no longer] united, 
Whig party.” 

A month afterwards, in the early days of No- 
vember, 1847, J. Q. Adams, going with his 
family to Washington, left Quincy for the last 
time. Four months later he was brought back 
for burial. It lacked, on the day he left, just 


86 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


two weeks of seventy full years since, a boy of 
ten, he had for the first time gone forth from 
his native town, then Braintree, embarking in 
the midst of the Revolutionary trials on the 
frigate Boston, then lying in the bay, sent to 
carry his father to France. The intervening 
period covered the whole national existence, 
from the war for independence with Great 
Britain to that for slavery with Mexico. On 
his part they had been threescore years and ten 
of almost uninterrupted public life, now ap- 
proaching an end not less fitting than dramatic. 
‘1 dined with them,” wrote the son, ‘* and felt 
a great deal of the dullness which overspread us 
all. I do not wonder ; it is difficult to see what 
six months will bring forth at such an age. It 
will not do to look forward.” 

After a short contest, Mr. Winthrop was 
elected speaker of the House, in the Congress 
that now met; J. Q. Adams, to the great chagrin 
of his son, voting for him. This Dr. Palfrey 
found himself unable to do. The latter was 
accordingly, at the very outset of congressional 
life, thus put in a most trying position, in which 
he found support at home from the “ Whig” 
alone. Into the now wellnigh forgotten con- 
troversy, which arose out of this speakership 
election, there is not room here to enter. It was 
long, bitter, and, in some features —as seen 


THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 87 


through the vista of fifty years — amusingly in- 
structive. The parties to it were very much in 
earnest and, as a consequence, exceedingly un- 
just to themselves, as well as to each other. 
The death of J. Q. Adams suddenly broke in upon 
it, and, during the painful observances which 
ensued, the extremely considerate demeanor of 
Speaker Winthrop to Mrs. Adams and the 
members of her husband’s family extricated her 
son, though at the time he failed to realize it, 
from a position which was fast becoming false. 
The controversy was obviously degenerating into 
one of a personal character, — an organized, if 
not very promising, effort to break down Mr. 
Winthrop. The “ Whig” also was far from 
flourishing, and Mr. Adams, with reason, was 
getting extremely weary of it. So far as editorial 
work was concerned, it was becoming more and 
more plain to him that he had no vocation that 
way. Indeed, how the paper sustained itself at 
all under his management, it is difficult now to 
understand. Voicing an unpopular cause, it was 
without capital, patronage, or enterprise. The 
consciousness of forever tugging at a dead weight 
is not inspiriting, and the zeal with which Mr. 
Adams took hold of his new work in June, 1846, 
was, in February, 1848, fast degenerating into a 
sense of hopeless drudgery. He was, however, 
at least cured of his taste for newspaper writ- 


88 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ing. He had of it enjoyed a surfeit. Of Mr. 
Winthrop, Mr. Adams now in private exclaimed : 
“ He is wrong, and grievously wrong; and what 
is worse, he is leading Massachusetts wrong. 
And now I am in a manner handcuffed in my 
opposition.” This at the moment he looked 
upon as one of “the heaviest of [his] trials: ” 
but, as the weeks went on, he grew to see it in 
another light ; and when, a few months later, 
the course of events compelled his complete 
severance from the paper, he accepted the situ- 
ation with a sigh of profound relief. The ex- 
perience was one he never cared to repeat. One 
of the most thoroughly creditable episodes in 
Mr. Adams’s life, it carried with it ever after a 
memory of thankless labor, necessary, but in 
character most repellent. The seed had to be 
sown; but the husbandman’s work was hard, 
the hours long, and his harvest to the last de- 
gree meagre. 

The National Convention of the Whig party 
met at Philadelphia on June 7th, and the next 
day nominated General Taylor as its candidate 
for the presidency, resolutely and significantly re- 
fusing to put forth any declaration of principles. 
A candidate whose political views, if he had any, 
were quite unknown was the party’s unwritten 
platform. In the convention, four ballots were 
had. One hundred and forty votes were necessary 


THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 89 


to anomination ; Mr. Clay, beginning with ninety- 
seven, ended with thirty-two; Mr. Webster had 
twenty-two votes on the first ballot, and thirteen 
on the last. So far as the “ Conscience” Whigs 
of Massachusetts were concerned, the issue was 
now made up under “ the Palfrey resolve.” A 
Southern man and an owner of slaves, General 
Taylor could not have their support. They had 
so declared in advance; and their two special 
representatives in the convention, Charles Allen 
and Henry Wilson, after voting loyally on every 
ballot for Mr. Webster, formally withdrew when 
General Taylor was declared the nominee. In 
doing so Mr. Allen publicly and boldly an- 
nounced that, in his belief, “the Whig party is 
here and this day dissolved ;” while Mr. Wilson 
exclaimed, amid the wild uproar of a tumultuous 
demonstration: “Sir, I will go home; and, so 
help me God, I will do all I can to defeat the 
election of that candidate.”” The more immedi- 
ate friends of Mr. Webster acquiesced. Like 
Mr. Webster himself, they did so silently, sul- 
lenly, slowly ; but, by degrees, they acquiesced. 

Meanwhile on June 3d, when already the re- 
sult at Philadelphia was anticipated, a consulta- 
tion had been held at the office of Mr. Adams, 
in Boston, and the steps preliminary to an or- 
ganized “bolt” discussed. It followed, close 
and sharp, on the announcement of the nomina- 


90 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


tion of Taylor and Fillmore ; and, in a few days, 
the call went forth for a convention to be held 
in August at Buffalo. To this convention Mr. 
Adams was appointed as one of the delegates 
from his father’s old congressional district ; 
and, on August oth, he started on his way 
thither, going first to New York, where he met 
Mr. Giddings, and had with him an exchange of 
views. “He is averse to taking up Mr. Van 
Buren, and so am I,” he wrote. On the 8th 
he reached Buffalo, and at once found himself 
involved in the whirl of the political storm cen- 
tre. Thirty years later, referring to the Buf- 
falo Convention of 1848, Mr. Adams recorded 
his mature conviction of it. ‘* There have,” he 
said, “ been many such assemblages since, far 
larger in numbers, and perhaps more skillful in 
their modes of operation; but for plain, down- 
right honesty of purpose, to effect high ends 
without a whisper of bargain and sale, I doubt 
whether any similar one has been its superior, 
either before or since.” 

The convention of the Democratic party, 
which met at Baltimore on the 22d of May, had, 
after a sharp contest, nominated Lewis Cass, of 
Michigan, as its candidate; a Northern man 
with Southern principles, General Cass stood 
on a distinctly pro-slavery platform. The real 
question, therefore, which the Buffalo Conven- 


THE FREE-SOIL PARTY 91 


tion had to decide was, whether General Taylor 
or General Cass should be President of the 
United States for the term then approaching. 
The “Conscience” Whigs wanted to defeat 
Taylor; but they did not want to elect Cass. 
The “ Barnburners,” the bolting New York con- 
tingent at Buffalo, bitterly resented the treat- 
ment of their chief, ex-President Van Buren, in 
the last two Democratic presidential conventions. 
In that of 1844, he had been defeated through 
the instrumentality of Cass; and in that just 
held Cass had received the nomination. No 
matter who was elected, the “ Barnburners ” 
were now eager for revenge. In the end they 
had their way; and they secured it through a 
very simple pact, or compromise. The “ Barn- 
burners” said to the ‘ Conscience” Whigs: 
“Give us the naming of the candidate, and you 
may frame the platform of principles on which 
the candidate shall stand.” So far as political 
tenets were concerned, the opponents of Mr. - 
Van Buren were thus given absolute carte 
blanche ; and with this they had to be content. 
Mr. Adams was made chairman of the conven- 
tion; and finally, at the very earnest request 
of the Ohio delegation, among whom his father’s 
name was a thing to conjure with, he was asso- 
ciated on the ticket with Mr. Van Buren, as 
the third party’s candidate for Vice-President. 


CHAPTER VI 
THE EBB OF THE TIDE 


Havine completed its labors, the Buffalo Con- 
vention of 1848 adjourned on August 10th; 
the presidential election took place on Novem- 
ber 9th following. While polling close upon 
300,000 votes in the country at large, the new 
party failed to carry a single electoral college ; 
but, none the less, as between the two dominant 
divisions, it decided which should carry the day. 

So far as Mr. Adams personally was con- 
cerned, the vote was unmistakably gratifying. 
To him had been assigned the second place on 
the ticket, representing the element in the new 
organization to be drawn from the Whigs; and 
he had to go before the anti-slavery people of 
Massachusetts weighted down by the name and 
the record of Martin Van Buren. Nevertheless, 
the proportion which the Free-Soil vote bore to 
the total vote cast in Massachusetts (twenty- 
eight per cent.) was larger than in any other 
State, except Vermont (twenty-nine per cent.), 
and materially exceeded that reached in New 
York (twenty-six per cent.). In other words, 


THE EBB OF THE TIDE 93 


Mr. Adams contributed his full share to the 
strength of the ticket on which he ran. The 
lessons of his father, supplemented by his own 
years of almost daily teaching from the editorial 
office of the “ Whig,” bore their fruits. Both 
the old parties were shaken to their centres by 
the new demonstration. 

Mr. Adams, also, came out of this canvass 
with a national reputation of his own, which 
thenceforth he retained and increased. This 
meant a great deal for him; for probably in 
the whole experience of the country there has 
not been another case where a man was so per- 
sistently estimated at less than his real value 
because of the eminence of his immediate an- 
cestors. To a certain extent this was a natural 
presumption ; but it was intensified in the case 
of Mr. Adams by peculiarities of manner, and 
a shyness of temper which caused merely casual 
observers to mistake an innate indisposition to 
push himself for lack of capacity. Growing 
up under the overshadowing fame of John 
Quincy Adams, it was not until 1848 that he 
was generally recognized as something more 
than the bearer of a distinguished cognomen. 
This, too, was a point on which he was sensitive, 
—and unduly so. Never claiming anything, or 
even seeking recognition, because of his father 
and his grandfather, constant reference to them 


94 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


in connection with himself annoyed, and at times 
irritated him. He could not habituate himself 
to it, nor learn to take it lightly and as matter 
of course, — at one time the commonplace utter- 
ance of some not unkindly man, devoid of good 
taste, and at another the obvious retort of a 
coarse and commonplace opponent, quick to 
avail himself of a telling personal allusion. For 
all such, it was so very easy to refer to a notice- 
able family deterioration, —‘“ sharp decline” 
was the approved form of speech, —and the 
reference was sure to elicit a sneering laugh, and 
round of blockhead applause from the benches 
of the groundlings. Nor was it only the clumsy 
who had recourse to this unfailing method of 
bringing down the house. In the course of the 
campaign of 1848 even Rufus Choate, the kind- 
est, the most genial and charming of men and 
acquaintances, both by nature and training 
courteous and considerate of opponents, — even 
Rufus Choate, in the Whig state convention, 
held that year at Worcester, was not above this 
wretched, worn-out claptrap; and, with rhe- 
torical pause, referring to J. Q. Adams, then 
scarcely six months dead, as “the last of the 
Adamses,” he elicited from his audience a noisy 
and delighted response. It was a hit, — a very 
palpable hit; but none the less somewhat un- 
worthy of Rufus Choate. It was all in the 


THE EBB OF THE TIDE 95 


rough give-and-take of the hustings; but there 
is no doubt it annoyed Mr. Adams more than 
he cared to admit or, indeed, than it should 
have done. To have one’s ancestors unceasingly 
flung in one’s face is unpleasant, and listening 
to the changes incessantly rung upon them 
becomes indubitably monotonous. This, how- 
ever, all through life, was to an unusual degree 
the fate of Mr. Adams, and never so much so as 
in the campaign of 1848. None the less the 
rallying cry of the new party, formulated by 
Stephen C. Phillips at Buffalo, —‘* Van Buren 
and Free Soil; Adams and Liberty,’ — echoed 
all through the North, and through it Mr. 
Adams’s individual name became known far 
beyond the limits of Massachusetts. 

In other respects the outcome of that cam- 
paign was not so gratifying. The fact was, and 
it could not be sophisticated away, that Martin 
Van Buren, the political heir of Andrew Jack- 
son and the “little magician” of New York 
politics, was a strange candidate for earnest 
anti-slavery men to select. The association was 
undeniably incongruous. Of course, Mr. Ad- 
ams’s own record and utterances in regard to 
his new political running-mate were industri- 
ously hunted up, and he was confronted with 
them. They were, to say the least, the reverse 
of respectful. Only four years before he had 


96 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


in print alluded to Mr. Van Buren as one who, 
making “a trade of public affairs,” was fixed to 
nothing “but his own interest;” and whose 
“ cold and temporizing policy ” at that time was 
“symptomatic of treachery hereafter.” Refer- 
ring to such expressions, he now wrote: “* These 
opinions I then held, but [Mr. Van Buren] has 
done much to make me change them; and it 
singularly happens that, in the particular in 
which I then predicted he would fail, he falsi- 
fied my anticipation :—he did oppose the an- 
nexation of Texas. Mr. Van Buren is a mixed 
character. In early life, right; in middle life, 
swayed to the wrong by his ambition and his 
associations, — he seems towards the close of 
his career to be again falling into the right 
channel. But, as a candidate, his main defect 
is thet he wants warmth to give an impulse to 
his friends.” 

In presenting their case in 1848, the Free- 
Soil speakers always met the objection of Mr. 
Van Buren’s candidacy by saying that it was a 
case of “ principles, not men.” As Von Holst 
has since pointcd out,! this phrase in connection 
with a presidential canvass has a somewhat 
empty sound. If it was meant that the candi- 
dates of the party stood no chance of an elec- 
tion, and consequently that the voter, in casting 


1 Vol. iii. p. 398. 


THE EBB OF THE TIDE 97 


his ballot for them, merely recorded himself as 
in favor of a principle, the proposition might be 
accepted ; though scarcely one calculated to at- 
tract recruits. On the other hand, when ar- 
dently supporting principles, it is at least ques- 
tionable wisdom to choose to office men who, in 
office, cannot be relied on to make those princi- 
ples effective. Furthermore, Mr. Adams’s po- 
sition was now not logical. He had objected to 
Mr. Webster as the exponent of the anti-slavery 
sentiment because he was deficient in moral 
stamina. He had insisted that, if Mr. Webster 
was elevated into leadership, he would, sooner or 
later, by leading the movement over to the en- 
emy, betray it to its destruction. Not grounded 
in the faith, Daniel Webster was consumed by 
a craving for the presidential office. This was 
probably true ; but, in these respects, how was 
it with Martin Van Buren? Was he, as stud- 
ied in a record at once long, varied, and sinuous, 
conspicuous for moral stamina? How had he 
stood, and what had he said on the great ques- 
tion at issue? If again elevated to the presi- 
dential chair, could he be depended upon to 
carry out the principles enunciated at Buffalo ? 
In point of fact, it needed but the development 
of a single year to show the eager and honest 
participants in the Buffalo convention that the 
leaders among their New York associates were 


98 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


simply playing a game. Headed by Mr. Van 
Buren’s son, the popular “ Barnburner” idol in 
the campaign of 1848, they in 1849 marched 
in a body back into the regular Democratic fold. 
Their late allies in other States looked on at the 
spectacle in blank amazement; but the fact 
could not be gainsaid. It is not easy to see 
what more, or worse, under similar circum- 
stances, Mr. Webster could have done. 

In the way those concerned then approached 
it, the difficulty, however, was insoluble. The 
nascent party did not feel able to stand alone ; 
and, that being so, it would have made no dif- 
ference at the stage of evolution it had then 
reached, whether it put forward as its exponent 
Van Buren or Webster, Corwin or M’Lean. As 
Mr. Adams one day somewhat ruefully wrote, 
‘¢ We must do with what we have;” and which- 
ever of the candidates they might select from 
the men prominent in either of the old organiza- 
tions, the Free-Soilers of Buffalo would have 
been sure to regret not selecting another. In 
J. Q. Adams the anti-slavery sentiment had a 
leader, and from him it drew an early inspira- 
tion. When, in 1845, years and failing strength 
incapacitated him from service, no successor of 
national reputation presented himself. Those 
then foremost on the stage had, so far as the free 
States were concerned, been educated on national 


THE EBB OF THE TIDE . 99 


lines. On the slavery issue they were, one and all, 
wholly unreliable when subjected to any severe 
test. They would roll off platitudes by the yard, 
and accept endless formulas ; but they could not 
lift themselves to a level with the subject, or 
be convinced that it was beyond a charlatan 
treatment. The party of the future, therefore, 
had to educate its own leaders, — slowly evolve 
its exponents. Precipitated into existence by 
the events of 1848, it had no confidence in itself. 
That must be its excuse; and, as an excuse, it 
is fairly satisfactory. Nevertheless, for the 
young party of high standards and noble aspira- 
tions to select Martin Van Buren as its standard- 
bearer was absurd; and, thereafter, the genuine 
earnestness which pervaded the movement alone 
saved it from collapse under ridicule. Even 
so, in making its first nomination the Free-Soil 
party, to use the words of the translator of Von 
Holst, “ destroyed its own viability.” Had it 
been thoroughly consistent and true to itself, it 
would have nominated John P. Hale, Salmon P. 
Chase, or William H. Seward, treating the can- 
vass of 1848 as a subordinate and temporary 
issue, which, so far as any ultimate result was 
concerned, might safely be left to decide itself. 
Practically, in the end, it did decide itself. 
Millard Fillmore became president ; a compro- 
mise was patched up; the slave-power ruled 


100 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


supreme. Meanwhile, in spite of the promi- 
nence given him during the canvass of 1848, the 
political leadership in the Massachusetts anti- 
slavery movement within the lines of the Consti- 
tution was passing from Mr. Adams. Charles 
Sumner, on the one hand, and Henry Wilson, 
on the other, were rapidly coming into greater 
prominence and more pronounced activity. Sum- 
ner’s larger and more imposing presence, com- 
bined with magnetism, eloquence, and zeal, were 
then gaining for him that personal ascendency 
which, firmly cemented by the brutal assault of 
May, 1856, was to continue unbroken to his 
death. Henry Wilson, on the other hand, fail- 
ing in business, had now devoted himself to 
politics as a calling from which incidentally the 
means of livelihood might be extracted. With 
untiring activity he was organizing the new 
party throughout the State; and he was not or- 
ganizing it with an eye to the political advance- 
ment of Mr. Adams. He meanwhile was writ- 
ing in his diary: “I look upon this period as 
simply an episode to what ought to be the true 
purpose of my next few years.” 

In this entry he referred to the work before 
him in connection with the family papers, now 
his, the John Adams accumulation having now 
been augmented by the yet larger accumulation 
of his son. ‘Twenty-two years had then already 


THE EBB OF THE TIDE 101 


elapsed since the death of the second president, 
and his grandson felt no disposition longer to 
defer a task which, moreover, was one altogether 
congenial. So already, while the presidential can- 
vass of 1848 was still in progress, arrangements 
for the publication of the “ Life and Works 
of John Adams” had been effected, and a pro- 
spectus issued. Wholly freed at last from jour- 
nalistic work, Mr. Adams, now turning from pol- 
itics, devoted himself wholly to literature and 
the study of “ stale political excitements.”’ 

The massive ten volume publication of the 
John Adams papers, begun in 1848, was not 
completed until 1856; nor was it until 1860 
that Mr. Adams again exercised an appreciable 
influence in the direction of public affairs. The 
intervening years, passed in his library, or at 
most touching on politics quite remotely and in 
a way not productive of any considerable result, 
only here and there offer anything of historical 
value. Not ina position to be consulted, or to 
enjoy special means of information, his diary 
became a mere record of private reflections and 
local or family incidents. In it, also, the ab- 
sence of his father makes itself greatly felt, the 
inspiration of his large activity and _ restless, 
eager temper being distinctly gone. Though he 
himself did not know it, the single element of 
the picturesque and broadening had in Febru- 


102 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ary, 1848, been taken out of Mr. Adams’s ex- 
istence, and he now fell easily and naturally 
back into the narrow circle of New England 
life. 

So far, also, as the anti-slavery cause was 
concerned, therc now followed a succession of 
dull, dragging years,— years of reaction, dis- 
couragement, and hope deferred. In national 
politics, the death of Taylor, at the moment 
when to anti-slavery men his administration 
promised results as happy as they were unex- 
pected, was followed by the accession of Fill- 
more, the recreancy of Webster, and the pas- 
sage of the compromise measures of 1850. 
Then came the canvass of 1852, and the elec- 
tion of Franklin Pierce; the Free-Soil party of 
four years before being now reduced to little 
more than a contemptible political fragment. 
The Whig organization did not, however, sur- 
vive its defeat of that year, and perceptibly 
melted away in the agitation which followed the 
repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Finally the 
Republican party emerged from the chaos, and 
in 1856 almost secured the presidency. Fortu- 
nately for itself and the country, it failed to 
elect Fremont; but in 1858 it carried a majority 
in the House of Representatives, preliminary to 
its election of Lincoln two years later. Mr. 
Adams’s time, long deferred, then came. 


CHAPTER VII 
THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 


Ty 1858 it was for Mr. Adams either to find his 
way into active public life, or make up his mind 
to permanent exclusion from it. Fifty-one years 
of age, he had been prominent; and he no longer 
was so. He was in the familiar and dangerous 
position of a man well known to nourish politi- 
cal aspirations, who has been much and long 
discussed in various connections, but who, for 
one reason or another, has never received prefer- 
ment. Of such, in the end, people weary. The 
man everlastingly named, who never “ gets 
there,’ becomes, so to speak, shopworn, — lack- 
ing novelty, he is a bit out of fashion; and, 
moreover, he is in the way of the younger and 
more energetic aspirants. Already, when his 
father died in February, 1848, Mr. Adams had 
been more or less talked of as his congressional 
successor; but Horace Mann had then been 
preferred to him. In 1850, the compromise 
year, Mr. Mann became involved in a bitter 
controversy with Mr. Webster, growing out of 
the compromise measures, and Mr. Adams was 


104 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


one of the most zealous advocates of his reélec- 
tion. Two years later, in 1852, Mr. Mann vol- 
untarily withdrew; but Mr. Adams was then a 
Free-Soiler, and those were the dark days. He 
was nominated by his party for the district ; 
but, on the second trial, — for a majority of all 
the votes cast for the office was then necessary 
to a choice at the first or regular election, — his 
Whig opponent, a highly respectable Boston 
business gentleman of the Webster following, 
was chosen over him by a narrow plurality. 
The Democrats, as ever, were disinclined to Mr. 
Adams. The old Jackson antipathy would not 
away, and the instinctive Irish dislike to the 
essentially Anglo-Saxon made itself felt. In 
1854 the Whig and Free-Soil parties both dis- 
appeared in Massachusetts under the native 
American, or ‘¢ Know-Nothing ” cataclysm, and 
Mr. Adams found himself a leader absolutely 
without a following. In the Norfolk district, 
William S. Damrell, a man whose name had 
never been heard of in politics before, of whom 
the dictionary of Congress says that, “ by trade 
a printer, [he] never had the privilege of even 
a common-school education,’ was evolved as a 
candidate from the sessions of a secret order, 
and elected by a majority larger than any by 
which the district had ever honored either of his 
two immediate, and better remembered, prede- 


THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 105 


cessors, Horace Mann and John Quincy Adams. 
Though incapacitated by paralysis from any 
active performance of his duties, Mr. Damrell 
served through a second term ; but as that drew 
to its close in 1858, the Know-Nothing deluge 
had in great degree subsided, having in Massa- 
chusetts brought to the political surface abso- 
lutely nothing but driftwood and scum. A way 
was at last thus opened for Mr. Adams. But 
in the district the native American element was 
still strong, and almost as set in its hostility to 
Mr. Adams as were the Irish ; so his nomination 
was effected not without trouble. Indeed, he 
owed it largely to the unseen, personal inter- 
vention of Mr. Sumner, and to the generous 
withdrawal in his favor of George R. Russell, 
the natural candidate of those of Whig antece- 
dents, in that district a large element. When, 
however, the day of the convention came, Mr. 
Adams was nominated on the first ballot by a 
decisive preponderance ; and, in common with 
the rest of the Republican ticket, he was re- 
turned at the November election by a clear 
majority of nearly 1200 over two opposing can- 
didates. He was thus at last fairly launched 
into national public life. 

The Thirty-sixth Congress, the only one 
in which Mr. Adams ever sat, assembled on 


Monday, December 5, 1859. The Republican 


106 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


party at that time was at a great disadvantage 
socially in Washington. It had no foothold in 
the executive departments, and few officers of 
the army and navy were in sympathy with it. 
The ordinary run of office-holders regarded it with 
traditional aversion, and an apprehension ever 
increasing. ‘The whole social atmosphere of the 
capital was in fact surcharged with pro-slavery 
sentiment. Among the prominent Republicans 
in Congress, Governor Seward almost alone 
dwelt in a house of his own, or made any 
pretense of hospitality. Mr. Sumner lived in a 
bachelor apartment of modest proportions and 
severe simplicity, taking his dinner at a restau- 
rant, when not the guest of some member of the 
diplomatic corps. Mostof the Republican mem- 
bers of Congress lived at the wretched hotels, 
or still less inviting boarding-houses, then char- 
acteristic of Washington; and they and their 
wives, when the latter were there, haunted cor- 
ridors and public parlors. Sensible of the ob- 
ligation which in this respect was upon him, 
Mr. Adams had engaged a large house, as houses 
in Washington then went, and prepared to 
make of it a Republican social centre, so far as 
such a centre was possible under existing con- 
ditions. 

The session of 1859-60, as usual with sessions 
next preceding a national election, was almost 


THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 107 


wholly given up to president-making. The 
Buchanan administration was already moribund. 
All the high hopes and sanguine expectations 
with which that “ old public functionary,” as he 
described himself, had entered upon his high office 
had, one by one, been disappointed, and utter 
failure now stared him in the face; though, in 
that respect, no imaginings could for him have 
equaled the realities which the immediate future 
had in store. The Democratic party was rent 
in twain over the slavery issue; while, for Mr. 
Douglas, his great panacea of popular sover- 
eignty had proved in the result a veritable boom- 
erang. In spite of his victory over Abraham 
Lincoln in the election which followed the mem- 
orable Illinois senatorial debate of 1858, Stephen 
A. Douglas was now hardly less out of favor 
with the Southern leaders than were the more 
moderate Republicans. None the less, he was 
still the favorite presidential possibility of the 
Democracy of the North ; while the South looked 
about anxiously, but in vain, for somebody on 
whom they could unite as “ available,” in oppo- 
sition to him. Every possible combination was 
considered. On the Republican side, John C. 
Fremont had long dropped out of considera- 
tion. It was instinctively recognized, and tacitly 
conceded, that he did not possess the stamina 
required ; and men already began to feel a degree 


108 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


of mortification and a certain sense of shame- 
facedness as they called to mind the way in 
which they had been stampeded into his nom- 
ination four years before. The recollection was 
the reverse of inspiring. Had Governor Seward 
then been nominated in Fremont’s place, — as 
he always after felt he should have been, — his 
position as the recognized leader of the Repub- 
lican party would have been thereby established, 
and a renomination in 1860 would have followed 
as a matter of course. As it was, he had since, 
by force of ability and incisive utterance, risen to 
be the most prominent member of the party in 
Congress and before the country; but in the 
former he did not attain the position which 
Henry Clay had held so long among the Whigs. 
He lacked certain of the personal elements essen- 
tial to American political leadership. Still, so 
far as the impending nomination was concerned, 
he was distinctly in the lead, with Salmon P. 
Chase as a not very formidable second. Abra- 
ham Lincoln was as yet hardly considered seri- 
ously. The Whigs were a mere rump; the 
Know-Nothing party had disappeared. 

The House of Representatives of the Thirty- 
sixth Congress was a wholly impotent body, in 
that it was hopelessly divided. Of its 237 mem- 
bers, 109 were classed as Republicans, 88 as 
Administration Democrats, 18 as Free State 


THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 109 


Democrats, and 27 as “ Native Americans,” all 
but four of the last named being from former 
Whig districts of the South. A contest, and a 
long and bitter contest, over the choice of a 
speaker was inevitable from the outset; and 
the situation, mixed and bad at best, was fur- 
ther complicated by the extreme agitation into 
which the whole South had been thrown by the 
John Brown raid at Harper’s Ferry in the 
previous October. Never had a Congress assem- 
bled containing so many elements of such dan- 
gerous discord. As subsequent events showed, 
it was rather an unmanageable mob insensibly 
premonitory of conflict, than a parliamentary 
body. Above all, the arrogance and anger 
of the Southern contingent scarcely brooking 
constraint, the manners of the plantation over- 
seer were constantly in evidence, as also an 
eagerness for the fray. Among the more pro- 
minent members on the Republican side were 
Thaddeus Stevens, of Pennsylvania, who, having 
already served two terms in the House between 
1848 and 1853, now again returned to it to re- 
main in continuous service until his death in 
1868; John Sherman, of Ohio, then commen- 
cing his third term, and shortly to be transferred 
to the Senate ; Roscoe Conkling, of New York, 
aman of only thirty and just entering on his 
brilliant congressional career; the three fa- 


110 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


mous brothers Washburn, Israel, from Maine, 
Elihu B., from Illinois, and Cadwallader C., 
from Wisconsin; and to these might be added 
Owen Lovejoy, a brother of the “ martyr of Al- 
ton,”’ Galusha A. Grow, of Illinois, and Lot M. 
Morrill, of Vermont. Besides L. Q. C. Lamar, 
of Alabama, Roger A. Pryor, of Virginia, and 
Laurence M. Keitt, of South Carolina, infamous 
as the coadjutor of Brooks, the list of those 
serving on the other side of that House bristles 
with names of men who subsequently died in 
the Confederate service. Vallandigham, of Ohio, 
afterwards notorious as a ‘‘ copperhead,” was also 
a member. 

The contest over the speakership began on 
December 5th, the opening day of the session, 
and came to a close on February 1st; when, on 
the forty-fourth ballot, William Pennington of 
New Jersey, then serving his first and only 
term in Congress, was chosen. John Sherman 
was the candidate of the Republicans from the 
second ballot to the thirty-ninth, when he with- 
drew his name to save his party from clearly 
impending defeat. The contest was within 
three days as long as the similar struggle of 
four years previous, which had resulted in the 
election of Banks; but here the resemblance 
stopped. There was in it, as compared with 
the other, a significant increase of bitterness ; 


THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 111 


on both sides an exasperation as of men who 
could with difficulty be restrained from laying 
violent hands on each other. Thus, while good- 
humor and courtesy had marked the contest of 
1856, that of 1860 was noticeable for its acri- 
mony and spirit of fierce defiance. 

The House was thus organized. When, how- 
ever, it came to the assignment of committee 
positions, Mr. Adams, so far as influence in the 
House was concerned, was, as he at the time 
well understood and, later on, more and more 
appreciated, courteously, and in a dignified, 
considerate sort of way, shelved. Failing to 
bear in mind an injunction earnestly imposed 
upon him by Mr. Giddings at a meeting in Bos- 
ton in December, 1858, “not to permit any 
delicacy or scruples to stand in the way,” it 
never occurred to Mr. Adams to bring to bear 
on the new and inexperienced occupant of the 
speaker’s chair any pressure to secure recogni- 
tion for himself. Indeed, he would not have 
known how to set about such a business. Ac- 
cordingly, acting under almost unendurable 
pressure from every other quarter, Mr. Penning- 
ton lent a ready ear to the ingenious suggestion 
conveyed to him by a not disinterested Massa- 
chusetts colleague, that Mr. Adams should be 
appointed to the same committee positions which 
had been assigned to his father when, nearly 


112 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


thirty years before, the latter first entered the 
House of Representatives as an ex-President. 
The scheme was effective, and Mr. Adams was 
thus promoted out of his colleague’s way. ‘The 
committee on manufactures, of which his name 
appeared as chairman was, under the rules for 
the disposition of business then and since in 
vogue, a mere name. It had not even a room 
assigned to it; nor had it been called together 
within the memory of any member of that Con- 
gress. To be announced as its head was equiy- 
alent to what is commonly known as “ honora- 
ble mention.”” Nevertheless, for a new member 
of Mr. Adams’s peculiar temperament and very 
retiring disposition, this practical shelving had 
its advantages in affording him time in which 
to become familiar with his new surroundings. 
His subsequent prominence came naturally and 
in due order of events, and under a positive 
call; he was not prematurely thrust into notice. 

In this, his maiden session, except in answer 
to the call of the clerk, Mr. Adams’s voice was 
heard but once in the House. He would much 
have preferred to maintain an unbroken silence ; 
but a presidential election was impending, and 
set speeches were in order. These speeches, of 
the abstract, educational kind, while addressed 
to the House, were meant for the constituencies. 
Some of Mr. Adams’s friends at home insisted 


THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 113 


that he must make himself heard; and, in re- 
sponse to their urgency, he spoke. His speech 
was thoroughly characteristic. In no way sen- 
sational or vituperative,— its calm, firm tone, 
excellent temper, and well-ordered reasoning 
naturally commended it to an audience satiated 
by months of turgid rhetoric and personal abuse. 
This his Southern colleagues appreciated ; for, 
conscious what sinners they were in those re- 
spects, they the more keenly felt in others mod- 
eration of language and restraint in bearing. 
A few days later one of the most extreme among 
them, Mr. Cobb, of Alabama, went out of his 
way to refer to Mr. Adams as “ the only mem- 
ber never out of order ;” and the person thus 
curiously singled out noted, “ there is something 
singular in the civility formally paid me on the 
other side of the house. I have never courted 
one of them; but I have insulted no one.” It 
was to these men—the members from the 
South, and more especially to those from Vir- 
ginia —that Mr. Adams now addressed himself, 
setting forth the cause of being — the raison 
d'etre —of the Republican party in a natural 
resistance to the requirements and claims of a 
property interest, which, alone of all interests, 
was directly represented on the floor of the 
House by a solid phalanx of its members. Then 
passing on to an appeal from the modern inter- 


114 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


pretation of the Declaration and Constitution to 
the understanding of the framers, he closed with 
a distinct statement of the constitutional limita- 
tions as respects slavery recognized and accepted 
by the Republican party, and his own belief in 
the utter futility and foreordained failure of 
any attempt on the Union. 

The Republican National Convention met at 
Chicago, on May 16th. Mr. Adams was an 
earnest, though quiet, advocate of the nomina- 
tion of Governor Seward. Seward was the 
leader of the Republican party ; more, far more, 
than any other one man, he had formulated its 
principles and voiced its feelings. He was en- 
titled now to be its standard-bearer. Suddenly, 
at the moment when that result of the conven- 
tion’s action was most confidently anticipated, a 
rumor spread through the House of Represen- 
tatives, then engaged on a contested election 
case, that the prize had fallen to Mr. Lincoln. 
Mr. Adams the next morning thus commented 
on this momentous selection : “ [The report ] was 
received with general incredulity, until by re- 
peated announcements from different quarters 
it appeared that he had carried the day by a 
union of all the anti-Seward elements. The 
effect upon me was to depress; for, though no 
partisan of Governor Seward, I did feel as if he 
was the man to whom the party owed the nomi- 


THE ANTE-BELLUM CONGRESS 115 


nation. But I could not fail to perceive in the 
faces of many of our friends the signs of a very 
opposite conviction. In truth, the western -sec- 
tion and the middle States are exceedingly 
timid, and desire as far as possible to escape so 
direct an issue on the slave question as the nom- 
ination of Mr. Seward would have made. Mr. 
Lincoln is by no means of so decided a type; 
and yet he is in many respects a fair representa- 
tive. I believe him honest and tolerably capa- 
ble ; but he has no experience and no business 
habits.” | 

Mr. Adams was no stump speaker or cam- 
paign orator. It was not in him to “ move the 
masses ;”’ but, in the long and exciting can- 
vass which now ensued, he took a somewhat 
active part, accompanying Governor Seward in 
his memorable electioneering journey through 
the States of the Northwest, going as far as 
St. Paul. Renominated to Congress without 
opposition, he was elected by a majority of 
some 8000 votes. This was on November 6th; 
upon which day ended the canvass most preg- 
nant of consequences of all the country has ever 
witnessed, before or since. On November 10th 
Mr. Adams closed the old mansion at Quincy, 
and moved with his family to his house in Bos- 
ton, there to remain for the few weeks yet to 
intervene before his departure for Washington. 


116 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


The effort of fourteen years had been crowned 
with success. The anti-slavery movement, at last 
proving irresistible, was about to take possession 
of the government. The final evening he was 
destined to pass in Quincy for more than seven 
years was marked by a celebration of the great 
political victory just won, and was marred by 
no premonition of the trials to come. The cur- 
tain fell amid rejoicings, illuminations, the blaz- 
ing of rockets and the shoutings of victory ; 
shortly it was to rise again to the sound of 
alarm-bells struck in the night. For the mo- 
ment, however, satisfaction over the past was 
as unalloyed as the anticipation of the future 
was confident. 


CHAPTER VIII 
THE AWAKENING 


RETROSPECT is the one infallible test of po- 
litical, as of private conduct, in times of emer- 
gency. To its cold and altogether unsympa- 
thetic scrutiny, the statesman’s policy and the 
methods of the tradesman are in the close 
equally subjected. Having, too, the last word, 
from its verdict there is no escape. Accord- 
ingly, it is apt to go hard before posterity with 
a public character when his biographer feels 
himself under the necessity of defense or ex- 
planation. Fortunately nothing of the sort is 
necessary for Mr. Adams in connection with the 
course of events subsequent to the election of 
1860, and leading up to the catastrophe of 
April 13, 1861. 

Not that Mr. Adams ever subsequently per- 
suaded himself, as did so many others, both in 
and out of public life, that, during the winter 
which preceded the outbreak of the civil war, 
he had foreseen the whole terrible outcome, an- 
ticipating just what occurred. On the contrary, 

/claiming no prescience in that regard, when 


118 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the struggle came he frankly confessed himself 
astonished and horrified. His forecast had for 
years been all wrong. He had assured the 
country that the South was not in earnest, that 
its threats were mere braggadocio, that its in- 
terests and its safety combined to keep it in the 
Union. Now he had slowly to wake up to his 
error, and address himself to a new and unan- 
ticipated situation. He did so, step by step 
feeling his way; but, afterwards, had his fore- 
sight during the winter of 1860-61 been as per- 
fect as his retrospect became, he would in no 
essential respect have done otherwise than he 
did. 

So far as the loyal people of the United 
States were concerned, the course of political 
events from the election of Lincoln to the bom- 
bardment of Fort Sumter — from November 6, 
1860, to April 18, 1861 — afforded a curious 
exemplification of what can only be described 
as national good luck; for, absolutely without 
intelligent human guidance, those events de- 
veloped themselves in a way which, under the 
peculiar conditions then existing, hardly ad- 
mitted of improvement. This, of course, was 
not apparent at the time. On the contrary, as 
the ship of state slowly and irresistibly drifted 
into the breakers, the ery for guidance —for a 
hand at the helm — was only less loud than the 


THE AWAKENING 119 


wail of despair over its manifest absence ; this, 
however, did not alter the fact that, the catas- 
trophe being inevitable, it came about, though 
in a way purely fortuitous, at the right time, in 
the best place that could have been selected, 
and, so far as the elements of the country loyal 
to nationality were concerned, in the most de- 
sirable form. 

The facts, not open to dispute, need to be 
briefly recalled. “On November 6, 1860, when 
a large plurality of those voting chose Lin- 
coln as President, they, like Mr. Adams, never 
believed that secession would ensue. When 
they were speedily undeceived on this head, the 
situation in which the country found itself could 
hardly have been worse. Four months were to 
elapse before the change of administration was 
to take place. The interim was full of danger. 
It was a veritable interregnum, during which 
the government might well be wrecked. The 
administration was indeed in the hands of the 
wreckers; while the President, wholly out of 
sympathy with the man chosen to be his suc- 
cessor, and in no way in communication with 
him, was almost, if not altogether, pitiable in 
his timorous vacillation. A better opportunity 
to complete their work, conspirators could not 
have desired. It so chanced, however, that, 
South as well as North, public sentiment was 


120 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


divided. The cotton States, so-called, — South 
Carolina and those contiguous to the Gulf of 
Mexico, — unanimous within themselves, were 
for all practical purposes also united in a com- 
mon line of action; but in all the more North- 
ern, or, as they were now called, border slave 
States, there was a strong Union sentiment — a 
reluctance to being swept headlong into the 
uncertainties which secession would unquestion- 
ably entail. Virginia and Maryland, during 
the interregnum, held the key of the situation. 
This fact is fundamental to any correct un- 
derstanding of the situation. Had those two 
border slave States then promptly followed 
the lead given by the cotton States, their ac- 
tion would unquestionably, with Buchanan at 
the head of the national government, have been 
decisive of the result. The conspirators, seizing 
the national capital before the change of admin- 
istration was effected, would have overturned 
the government. Fortunately, the traditions of 
Virginia and the material interests of Maryland 
were not readily overcome; and, actuated by 
the spirit of conservatism, a strong party in 
favor of delay at least, if not of the Union, de- 
veloped itself in each of those pivotal States. It 
was manifestly of vital importance to the loyal 
North to keep alive and encourage this visibly 
languishing Union sentiment, if only as an ob- 


THE AWAKENING 121 


stacle which the Southern extremists would have 
to overcome, thus making of it a factor of de- 
lay, consuming an interval of time fraught with 
danger. Not until March 4th would the ma- 
chinery of state —the War Department and the 
Navy Department — be transferred ; and, for the 
North, it was a matter, as is now apparent, of 
simply vital importance that the catastrophe — 
if a catastrophe was inevitable— should be de- 
ferred until after that date. Throughout that 
trying winter, therefore, the eyes of all think- 
ing, cool and clear-headed men were steadily 
fixed upon the ides of March. 

On the other hand, it was plainly the interest 
of the conspirators to precipitate a conflict. By 
so doing they might not impossibly secure the 
national capital, thus becoming, when the change 
of administration necessarily took place, the 
de facto government. So far as foreign nations 
were concerned, this would have been con- 
clusive. The hesitating attitude of the border 
slave States, especially of Virginia, was the ob- 
stacle in the way. Those States were, however, 
in that unstable psychological condition which 
made it very necessary to deal carefully with 
them. To bring on a conflict was easy; but by 
unduly precipitating such a conflict, the border 
States might not impossibly be shocked and re- 
pelled rather than attracted. The Southern 


122 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


extremists, therefore, instinctively recognized 
the fact that it would not be safe yet to put 
themselves manifestly in the wrong through any 
act of aggression, at once overt and wanton. 
For that, conditions were not ripe. Premature 
action on their part, while consolidating the 
North, might divide the South. Accordingly, 
unless the entire Southern heart should by good 
luck be fired by some premature attempt of 
the national government at the “coercion of a 
State,” the conspirators had perforce to wait. 

Meanwhile, the free States were in a condi- 
tion of moral chaos. The old union-saving, 
compromising sentiment was there both strong 
and outspoken. It had to be cautiously dealt 
with. The Republican party was thus under 
heavy bonds to keep in the right. It must 
show itself reasonable, conciliatory, and law- 
abiding ; it must hold out the olive-branch con- 
spicuously ; avoiding anything like provocation, 
it must await attack. Only by so doing could 
it, when the moment came, rally public senti- 
ment to its support. So far as the North was 
concerned, the day for diatribes and denuncia- 
tion, for philippics and incrimination, was, 
therefore, over. Though there were those, and 
not a few, who seemed unable to realize this fact 
then, it is obvious now. 

Under these difficult conditions, the loyal ele- 


THE AWAKENING 123 


ment labored under great disadvantage in the 
important matter of leadership. The Southern 
conspirators, knowing exactly what they were 
driving at, had, immediately after the election, 
gone effectively to work to secure it. They en- 
joyed perfect means of information; for they 
were actually represented in Congress, as well as 
in the executive departments. ‘They were united 
as one man. Every point in the game was thus 
in their favor; they apparently stood to win. 
Not so the incoming party of loyalty and free- 
dom. Divided by jealousies, distracted in coun- 
cil, those of the North knew absolutely nothing 
of that man whom the voice of a political con- 
vention, little above a mob, had selected to be 
their leader; and he, an untried executive, far 
away from the centre of action in “ his secluded 
abode in the heart of Lllinois,” made no sign. 
All eyes were turned thither, all ears were in- 
tent ; but during all the fateful days from early 
November to late February, nothing was there 
seen and little thence heard. Yet, as in the 
end it turned out, even this absence of lead in 
the time of crisis —so deplored at the time, 
and which on any received doctrine of chances 
should have been fatal— proved opportune. 
The country drifted more fortunately for itself 
than it would probably have been directed even 
by the most sagacious of politicians. For the 


124 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


moral conditions time in which to mature was 
absolutely essential. A community fairly agon- 
ized with fear was being slowly educated to the 
fighting pitch. The process was one, not of 
days, nor yet of weeks, but of months. 

A succession of events then occurred, — all 
fortuitous, and yet all as they should have been. 
On December 26th, acting within his orders but 
on his own responsibility, Major Robert Ander- 
son, in command of the United States forces in 
Charleston harbor, transferred his skeleton gar- 
rison from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. A 
catastrophe, then imminent, but for the North 
altogether premature, was thus deferred; and 
the eyes of the whole country were thereafter 
fixed, and its thoughts concentrated, on a single 
point of danger. An attack on the flag flying 
on an island in Charleston harbor became from 
that moment an assault on the Union. Chance 
thus selected the point of collision, and selected 
it most advantageously for the North ; for while 
South Carolina, laboring under a record of nearly 
forty years, was in the South looked upon with 
apprehension, in the North, deemed a firebrand, 
‘she had no friend. Memories of nullification, 
of assaults in the senate chamber and of coun- 
sels always extreme, there arose uncalled at the 
mere mention of her name. Human foresight 
thus could not have better designated the point 
of danger. 


THE AWAKENING 125 


A few days later, on January 9th, the attempt 
to reinforce Anderson with men and supplies by 
the steamer Star of the West failed, the re- 
lieving steamer being fired into and driven back 
to New York by the guns of South Carolina; 
while, most fortunately, and almost as matter of 
chance, those of Sumter did not reply. The act 
of aggression was thus on the part of the con- 
spirators ; and yet no catastrophe was precipi- 
tated. It would then have been premature — 
to the Union probably fatal; for March 4th 
was still nearly two months in the future. 

Again, in the early days of February, when 
the tension was fast becoming too severe to last, 
Virginia held an election for delegates to a con- 
vention to decide on the course to be pursued ; 
and a decisive majority of those chosen were 
found to be opposed to immediate secession. 
Most fortunately Henry A. Wise was no longer 
governor of that State. Had his tenure of the 
office continued, it is impossible to say what 
might or might not have been attempted. John 
Letcher, a Virginian of the states-rights school 
but not a secessionist, had succeeded Wise in 
1859, and, though a few months later on he acted 
with decision in favor of the Confederacy when 
the Virginia convention at last passed its ordi- 
nance of secession, he now for the time being 
maintained a conservative attitude. The Vir- 


126 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ginia election, resulting as it did at just this june- 
ture, was, therefore, a piece of supreme good 
fortune. It checked the rapid course of events. 
As Mr. Seward, with a deep sigh of relief, wrote 
on hearing of it: “ The danger of conflict before 
March 4th has been averted. Time has been 
gained.” Time at that juncture was precious. 

Then came the futile Washington Peace Con- 
ference, called at the request of Virginia. More 
discussion and new suggestions of accommoda- 
tion followed; and, though nothing came of 
them in the end, they were most useful, for they 
consumed the few days still remaining before 
the fateful ides. And all this time the ship of 
state, under influences quite irresistible, steadily 
drifted on a rocky lee shore. There was no 
hand at the helm; but nothing untoward oc- 
curred, no reef was struck. 

On March 4th, the transfer of the govern- 
ment was effected quietly and safely. A hand 
was now at the helm, and something positive in 
the way of direction was looked for. Luckily 
for the country, Mr. Lincoln’s lack of famil- 
larity with the situation, the very habit of his 
mind and the fact that he was more intent on 
the distribution of offices than on the gravity of 
the crisis, then also stood the country in good 
stead. The immediate question related to the 
course to be pursued in respect to Fort Sumter. 


THE AWAKENING 127 
Something had to be decided. Should the gar- 


rison be withdrawn ?—or should the govern- 
ment, in the attempt to relieve it, provoke a 
collision? And here, whichever course was de- 
cided on, serious doubts suggested themselves, 
grave danger was incurred. If the garrison 
had been, as Secretary Seward then advocated, 
quietly withdrawn, the country would have been 
humiliated and a great opportunity lost. Its 
self-respect gone, it would have sacrificed its 
prestige in the eyes of foreign powers. The 
result might well have proved disastrous; for, 
itself practically recognizing the Confederacy, it 
would have invited its recognition by others. 
On the other hand, if South Carolina were at- 
tacked, and the garrison at Sumter relieved by 
a successful naval operation, it would have been 
an overt act of aggression precipitating the 
South into a war of defense. Upon that issue 
the slave States would have been a unit, while 
the free States might have been divided. Had 
the Confederate leaders been wise and far-see- 
ing, they would in this way have provoked the 
now inevitable conflict, compelling the national 
government either to humiliate itself or to strike 
the first blow, they then replying strictly in self- 
defense. Again luck, for it was nothing else, 
served the United States better than the counsels 
of its statesmen. Taking the bit in their teeth, 


128 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the hot-heads of South Carolina precipitated the 
issue. Blunderers—aggressors in civil strife, 
the disciples of Calhoun caused the Confederate 
batteries to open fire on the flag of the Union. 
The rest followed. From that moment the loyal 
North was a unit. All the conditions were ripe, 
the educational process was complete, and the 
psychological crisis followed. 

Such was the course of events. That Mr. 
Adams did not at the time fully appreciate the 
gravity of the situation, or the irresistible force 
of the influences at work, or the earnestness and 
strength of his opponents, has already been said. 
He never did appreciate them. Referring to the 
secession movement of 1861, he twelve years 
later expressed the astonishing belief that “ one 
single hour of the will displayed by General 
Jackson ”’ in 1833 “‘ would have stifled the fire 
in its cradle.” A similar opinion was expressed 
by Charles Sumner in 18638,! and by the bio- 
graphers of Lincoln seventeen years later. That 
a decided lead and vigorous action on the part 
of the federal executive would, in December, 
1860, or January, 1861, have united the North 
earlier, and have in this way greatly influenced 
subsequent results, is hardly questionable; but, 
in view of the temper and self-confidence then 
there prevailing, that the attempt to “coerce a 

1 Works, vii. 518. 2 Nicolay and Hay, iii. 123. 


THE AWAKENING 129 


State ” in January, 1861, would have cowed the 
South into submission, and so prevented the four 
years of desperate conflict which ensued, is al- 
together improbable; nor would it have been 
desirable. The thing had been brooding too 
long and gone too far to escape a copious blood- 
letting. At some time, a little sooner or later, 
nationality had once for all to be established. 
Nevertheless, mistaken as he was as to the con- 
ditions under which he was called upon to act, 
and their inevitable outcome, — still holding the 
irremediable to be not beyond remedy, — Mr. 
Adams, in December, 1860, considered care- 
fully his course. Though dictated by instincts 
of high statesmanship, that course was at the 
time distinctly opportunist, — a course in which, 
amid changing circumstances, but always in 
presence of a great danger, he felt his way from 
day to day. None the less, whether viewed from 
the standpoint of the moralist and Christian, or 
that of the statesman, or that of the astute 
player in the game of politics, the line of action 
Mr. Adams then followed was completely justi- 
fied by results. 

In the first place, he recognized the fact that 
in their hour of victory a change of tone and 
bearing on the part of the victors was wise as 
well as becoming. Invective and threat were 
now to be replaced by firmness, moderation, 


130 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


conciliation ; fears were to be allayed; confi- 
dence established. Assurance was to be given 
that the ascendency gained would not be abused. 
This was something which a large portion of 
those associated with him, of whom Mr. Sum- 
ner was a type, could not understand. That 
a man should in the hour of triumph demean 
himself towards his opponents otherwise than 
as he had demeaned himself in the heat of con- 
flict seemed to pass their comprehension. To 
their eyes moderation always savored of weak- 
ness. In the next place, whichever way he 
looked at the actual situation, the course to be 
pursued seemed to Mr. Adams plain. If he 
looked at it from the standpoint of high moral 
responsibility, — as a Christian, —it was incum- 
bent on him to do all in his power to do, short 
of the concession of some vital point at issue, to 
avert civil strife. He would yield nothing really 
essential; but so far as non-essentials and points 
of pride were concerned, he would make smooth 
the way. The soundness of this view cannot 
well be controverted. Taking next the lower 
plane of the statesman, his eye was riveted on 
the transfer of the government from the hands 
of those who then held it to its friends; as he 
twelve years later said, it was manifest that 
something had to be done “to keep control of 
the capital, and bridge over the interval before 


THE AWAKENING 131 


the 4th of March in peace and quiet.” To this 
end it was not sufficient to guard carefully 
against any premature catastrophe, the result of 
some governmental action, not the less ill ad- 
vised because well meant; but such a catastro- 
phe, if cunningly contrived by the enemies of the 
governinent, must, if possible, be averted. Mr. 
Adams, therefore, advocated the appointment of 
committees and the summoning of conferences, 
—the presentation and discussion of schemes, — 
anything, in fact, which would consume time and 
preserve the peace, until the interregnum should 
end. Finally, as an astute politician, he labored 
to divide his enemies and concentrate the friends 
of the government by the plausibility and fair- 
ness of his proposals. He hoped to the last to 
hold the border States, fully believing that, if 
an armed conflict could by judicious caution be 
averted, the Gulf States would, when the time 
for sober second thought came, find their posi- 
tion untenable, and so be forced ignominiously 
back into the Union. In this belief he was over 
sanguine, failing to recognize the deadly inten- 
sity of the situation. Nevertheless, in the stage 
of that tremendous game then developing, it was 
a point worth playing for. Its loss would not 
jeopardize the stakes. 

This, however, was remote. The 4th of March, 
-—the possession of the seat of government when 


132 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the change of administration should take place, 
—this was the first point in the game, the se- 
curing which was essential to the result. All 
through that long, anxious winter, it was never 
absent from the mind of Mr. Adams. He now 
also rose, at once and as if by common consent, 
into great congressional prominence. Almost 
the first legislative act of the session was to pro- 
vide for a large Special Committee of Thirty- 
three, one from each State in the Union, to 
frame, if anyhow possible so to do, some mea- 
sure, or measures, to extricate the country from 
the danger into which it was manifestly drift- 
ing. Mr. Corwin, of Ohio, was chairman of this 
committee, and upon it Mr. Adams represented 
Massachusetts. The fate of the measures of 
conciliation and adjustment, which Mr. Adams 
drew up and submitted in this committee, subse- 
quently constituting the basis of its report, well 
illustrated how, to the very last moment, he was 
intent on the change to be effected on Inaugu- 
ration Day. These measures were before the 
House of Representatives, causing discussion 
and consuming time to the close of the session ; 
they were then at last disposed of in some par- 
liamentary way which made them no longer 
effective. Walking home that day from the 
Capitol with a member of his family after the 
adjournment of the House, his companion ex- 


THE AWAKENING 133 


pressed to Mr. Adams regret at the disposition 
thus made of his measures. The reply, con- 
veyed with unmistakable cheerfulness of tone, 
was, on the contrary, expressive of profound 
satisfaction that they were thus well out of the 
way, having done the work for which they were 
designed. Matters for discussion, they had ocecu- 
pied time which might otherwise have been dan- 
gerously employed. But the expediency of using 
every device to bridge over the interregnum did 
not admit of public expression, and in the North 
the purpose of Mr. Adams was only in part un- 
derstood. The support he received was em- 
phatic and general; but underneath there was a 
current of dissatisfaction and distrust. 

This, however, anticipates the narrative. 
Throughout December Mr. Adams had, in the 
Committee of Thirty-three, been constantly 
manceuvring for position, and to gain time.) It 
was yet many weeks before Lincoln would be 
inaugurated. On December 8th, Howell Cobb, 

1 Reuben Davis, of Mississippi, a member of the Committee 
of Thirty-three and an influential ‘ fire-eater,” at the time 
pronounced that committee “a tub thrown out to the whale, 
to amuse only, until the 4th of March next, and thus arrest 
the present noble and manly movements of the Southern 
States to provide by that day for their security and safety out 
of the Union. With these views I take my place on the com- 
mittee, for the purpose of preventing it being made a means of 


deception by which the public mind is to be misled and mis- 
guided.’’ Globe, December 11, 1860, p. 59. 


134 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


of Georgia, had resigned the portfolio of the 
Treasury to throw in his lot with the seceders ; 
and on the 15th, in anger, disgust, and despair, 
his secretary of state, General Cass, had aban- 
doned President Buchanan. On the evening of 


| the 26th Major Anderson had transferred his 


command from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. 
Up to this time, coolly watching his opponents 
in the Committee of Thirty-three, the effort 
of Mr. Adams had been directed towards mak- 
ing them show their whole hand. With extrem- 
ists at both ends, — Sumner and Chandler on 
the one side, and Davis and Chestnut on the 
other, — the North and the South were equally 
divided, the advocates of compromise in the free 
States vainly struggling against the influence of 
the “ Black Republicans,” as they were desig- 
nated, and the Unionists in the slave States 
against that of the “ fire-eaters.” Mr. Adams 
instinctively sought to show to the North that 
compromise was out of the question by forcing 
the representatives of the South from one posi- 
tion to another, until their final demands were 
shown to be impossible of concession ; and, while 
by so doing he united the North, the conciliatory 
tone adopted would tend temporarily to para- 
lyze the South, if not permanently to divide it. 
The border States were in dispute. 

His diary, and still more his letters written at 


THE AWAKENING 135 


the time, show the skill, temper, and clearness of 
head with which Mr. Adams played the hand 
assigned to him in this delicate game. The real 
object of the secession movement, the end to 
which his opponents were working, was not so 
plain in the winter of 1860-61 as it has since be- 
come; for what the leaders of the Confederacy 
then secretly had in view, they in public care- 
fully disavowed. It is now well understood that | 
what they planned was the ultimate establish- 
ment of a great semi-tropical republic, founded 
on African servitude, which, including all, or 
nearly all, the slave-holding States of the old 
Union, should find ample field for almost unlim- 
ited expansion in Mexico, Central America, and 
the West Indies. The reopening of the slave 
trade, as an inexhaustible source for the supply 
of cheap labor, was a recognized feature of the 
scheme, for obvious reasons sedulously disavowed 
until a more opportune oceasion.! 

As a whole, and in the more or less remote 
future, the project was large and essentially ag- 
gressive ; at the commencement it professed to 


1 This subject has been well discussed by both Rhodes and 
von Holst (Rhodes, ii. 34, 241, 367-373; iii. 119-124, 294, 
822 ; von Holst, v. 18-16, 30, 477-490; vi. 336 ; vii. 263, 264) ; 
and of the main features of the project, as it rested, more or 
less clearly defined, in the minds of the leaders of the Confed- 
eracy, there can be no question. See, also, Nicolay and Hay, 
iii. 177. 


136 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


be modest and strictly defensive. Those ma- 
turing it even assumed an attitude of injured 
innocence, and seem at times almost to have 
persuaded. themselves, as well as tried to per- 
suade the world, of the wrongs which they 
loudly averred. These were principally three 
in number. First, and that most harped upon, 
was the exclusion of slaves, as property, from 
the territories, the common possession of the 
Union, not yet organized into States. Next, 
the alleged fear of the anti-slavery sentiment as 
an aggressive force, in time disregarding con- 
stitutional barriers and interfering with a strong 
hand in the domestic institutions of the South. 
And, finally, the Personal Liberty Acts passed 
by legislatures of many of the free States, 
practically nullifying in those States the consti- 
tutional provision looking to the rendition of 
fugitives from labor. Such were the capital 
grievances of the South specifically alleged ; 
but, in reality, a mere cover to the greater, un- 
avowed, and as yet carefully disavowed, scheme 
of southern empire and the slave trade. The 
effort of Mr. Adams was to remove the mask, 
and disclose to the free States, and yet more to 
the hesitating border States, the reality be- 
‘neath. To this end, he framed the proposi- 
tions advanced by him in the Committee of 
Thirty-three: (1.) So far as the common ter- 


THE AWAKENING 137 


ritory was concerned, rather than quarrel, let 
us, he said, dispose of the matter finally by ad- 
mitting the region in dispute into the Union as 
a State, with or without slavery as its constitu- 
tion when framed shall provide. (2.) As to 
the Personal Liberty bills, the Fugitive Slave | 
Law can be modified in its repulsive and uncon- 
stitutional features, and those laws shall then be 
repealed. (8.) Finally, the Republican party 
had always carefully disavowed in every declara- 
tion of principles all right, or any intent, to in- 
terfere with slavery as a state institution ; and 
so far as that cause of apprehension was con- 
cerned, as a pledge of its good faith in making 
its declarations, the Republican party would 
agree to any reasonable additional constitutional 
guarantee that might be asked for. 

Confronted with these proposals, advanced in 
perfect temper and apparent good faith, the 
representatives of the slave States were in a 
dilemma. If they accepted them, all cause of 
complaint was removed, and secession became 
mere wanton revolution. If they rejected them, 
it must be because other and unavowed ends 
were aimed at. If so, what were those ends? 
The Southern extremists of the Gulf States, 
the men of the Reuben Davis type, knew well 
enough, and seceded without further discussion. 
The representatives of the border States were 


138 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


less precipitate, and, in presence of their con- 
stituents, more embarrassed. They, in their 
turn, were well aware that, in presence of the 
aroused anti-slavery sentiment of the free States, 
the Fugitive Slave Law was a dead letter. The 
_ modification of the Personal Liberty Acts to 
conform to constitutional requirements was, they 
felt, an empty concession; but they could not 
refuse to accept it. One article of grievance 
was thus removed. The alleged fear of inter- 
ference with slavery as a state institution was 
next disposed of. They could ask no more than 
the additional guarantees freely offered. The 
second article of grievance was thus removed. 
There remained only the territorial question. 
That, from conditions of soil and climate, slav- 
ery as a system could not find a profitable field 
for development in New Mexico, the only terri- 
tory open to it then belonging to the United 
States, had already been proved by experience. 
The concession thus offered, as the representa- 
tives of the slave States well knew, was abso- 
lutely empty; none the less its acceptance re- 
moved the last alleged cause of grievance. 
Feeling themselves thus steadily pressed back 
in discussion, the attitude of such members of 
the committee from the slave States as still re- 
mained upon it now underwent a change. The 
mask had to fall. The complaint over exclusion 


THE AWAKENING 139 


from territory already owned ceased to be heard, 
and, in place thereof, it was claimed that the 
existence of slavery and rights of slaveholders 
should be recognized, and in advance affirmed, 
in all southward territory thereafter to be ac- 
quired. No longer modest and on the defensive, 
the aggressive spirit and imperial ambition of 
the slaveocracy were avowed. It had been driven 
from cover. The only other question, that of 
a reopened slave-trade, was not then at issue, 
and the wish for it would have been promptly 
and emphatically denied. Meanwhile the object 
Mr. Adams had in view was attained. Accord- 
ingly, the moment his opponents acknowledged 
their alleged grievances as mere pretenses, and 
disclosed their real purpose, he ceased to urge 
on them his measures of adjustment. Before 
the free States and before the border States the 
issue was made, and was clear. The demand 
simply could not be complied with. 

Such were the views of the situation at Wash- 
ington entertained by Mr. Adams during that 
momentous winter, as described in his diary 
and letters, as yet unpublished, with that vivid- 
ness only possible in records contemporaneous 
with events, when hopes and fears fluctuate 
daily. As he himself summed it all up in a 
letter relating to other matters addressed to 
Mr. Sumner’s brother George, dated April 24, 


140 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


1861: ‘Our only course in the defenseless con- 
dition in which we found ourselves was to gain 


_ time, and bridge over the chasm made by Mr. 


Buchanan’s weakness.” That this was the one 
practical course for a statesman to pursue, un- 
der the circumstances, seems now self-evident ; 
that it was the course which would instinctively 
suggest itself toa natural diplomat is apparent. 
This Mr. Adams was. Looking upon him as 
such, his line of action throughout that crisis 
becomes explicable, and was right. He played 
his hand for time and the occasion ; they came, 
and he won. 

The single set speech Mr. Adams made in 


the course of this session was on January 81st, | 


and it completely justified with the general pub- 
lic the course he had taken. So far as the 
House of Representatives was concerned, it was 
unquestionably the speech of the session. Keenly 
expected, listened to intently, published and re- 
published in the leading papers of the country, 
the response it elicited was immediate, emphatic, 
and favorable. Mr. Adams had now come to 
occupy a position of great prominence; only a 
few days earlier Sherrard Clemens of Virginia, 
one of the few border-state representatives 
really sincere in their loyalty, had earnestly ex- 
horted him to declare himself ; and now what he 
said was listened to with an almost feverish in- 


THE AWAKENING 141 


terest. In that speech, far the best and most 
finished production of his life, Mr. Adams rose 
to the occasion; and few occasions anywhere or 
at any time have been greater. Though long 
since lost sight of in the mass of utterances of 
that time, — a mass so great as not to admit of 
measurement except by the cubic foot or pound, 
—this speech, when read by the historical inves- 
tigator, speaks for itself. While delivering it 
Mr. Adams stood near the centre of the great 
Hall of Representatives, the galleries of which 
were densely packed and breathlessly silent. 
When he took the floor there was a general 
movement of Southern members from their side 
of the chamber towards him, and some of the 
most extreme, in their anxiety to hear every 
word he uttered, were imperceptibly attracted 
until they found themselves occupying the desks 
of their Republican opponents. Mr. Everett, 
Robert C. Winthrop, and Governor Clifford, of 
Massachusetts, all then in Washington, occupied 
members’ seats close to the speaker; and, when 
he finished, extended to him thanks and con- 
gratulations. Indeed, it was a droll and highly 
significant reversal of conditions when Robert 
C. Winthrop was present and outspoken in com- 
mendation, while Charles Sumner was noticeable 
for his absence. The next day the correspon- 
dents pronounced it “the ablest, most polished, 


142 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


and clearly argued speech delivered in House or 
Senate the present session;” and the “ Louis- 
ville Journal,” when reprinting it in full a week 
later, commended it to readers in the border 
States, “‘as the most finished and masterly, as 
well as the most significant, expression of the 
spirit of conciliation that has yet been made on 
the Republican side.” That it contributed to 
the unification of sentiment at the North was 
nowhere more clearly shown than in a declara- 
tion of George 8. Hillard, at the Union meeting 
held a few days later in Boston. Mr. Hillard, 
a devoted personal adherent of Mr. Webster, 
then voiced more nearly than any other the 
sentiments of the ‘“ Webster Whigs;” and Mr, 
Hillard now declared that, in his speech, 
; Mr. Adams had yielded all “that an honorable 
opponent ought to ask.’ On the other hand, 
the division effected in the Southern ranks was 
~ shown by the declaration of Mr. Nelson, an in- 
fluential member from Tennessee, that “at a 
most critical moment” he had been led to take 
“an entirely different course of action by a 
' timely suggestion made” by Mr. Adams. His 
line of dontiies and utterance had thus tended 
to unify and educate the supporters of the gov- 
ernment, while, dividing its opponents, it held 
the border States in suspense. 

When it came to forming the Cabinet of the 


THE AWAKENING 143 


new administration, the name of Mr. Adams 
was much discussed. Governor Seward urged 
him upon the President elect, through the po- 
tent agency of Thurlow Weed; and the Massa- 
chusetts delegation united in a formal recom- 
mendation of him for the Treasury Department. 
Mr. Lincoln, however, had his own ideas as to 
who his advisers should be. One portfolio he 
had assigned to New England; and, out of con- 
sideration to Mr. Hamlin, of Maine, his associate 
on the presidential ticket, he left it to that 
gentleman to designate the person to whom 
the portfolio in question should be confided. 
At the same time he advised Mr. Hamlin that 
those to whom most consideration had been 
given were Mr. Adams, Governor Banks, of 
Massachusetts, and Gideon Welles, of Connec- 
ticut. For reasons which he stated to Mr. 
Lincoln, Mr. Hamlin, though himself of Demo- 
eratic antecedents, objected strongly to Gov- 
ernor Banks, of the two preferring Mr. Adams. 
Finally, with a view to the more even division 
of the Cabinet, both Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Ham- 
lin agreed that it was advisable that the mem- 
ber of it from New England should have come 
from the Democratic camp. Fortunately, as it 
turned out, for him, this eliminated Mr. Adams, 
as Governor Banks had been eliminated before ; 
and the choice settled down on Mr. Welles. 


144 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Mr. Lincoln certainly was not predisposed in 
favor of Mr. Adams for any position; though 
the evidence is clear that he entertained no 
particular objection to him. When it came, 
however, to the assignment of the other more 
prominent posts under his administration, the 
President elect, acting on his own volition, had 
pitched upon William L. Dayton, of New Jersey, 
for the English mission, and John C. Fremont 
for that to France; thus providing for the can- 
didates made familiar to the country as the 
nominees of the Republican party in the elec- 
tion of 1856. This arrangement, made without 
consultation with Mr. Seward, was, of course, 
scarcely courteous to the secretary of state; 
and moreover, in the case of one of the two 
selected, was obnoxious. William H. Seward 
was no admirer of John C. Fremont. The Presi- 
dent, however, did not yield the point readily ; 
and it was only as the result of persistent effort 
that the secretary brought about the transfer of 
Mr. Dayton to Paris, and Mr. Adams’s appoint- 
ment to St. James. Even then Mr. Lincoln is 
alleged to have excused himself for yielding by 
the characteristic remark that the secretary of 
state had begged very hard for it, and “ really, 
Seward had asked for so little!” 

Mr. Adams made at the time his own diary 
record of the single official interview he was ever 


THE AWAKENING 145 


destined to have with President Lincoln. His 
half-amused, half-mortified, altogether shocked 
description of it, given contemporaneously to 
members of his family was far more graphic. 
He had been summoned to Washington by the 
secretary of state to receive his verbal instruc- 
tions. The country was in the midst of the most 
dangerous crisis in its history ; a crisis in which 
the action of foreign governments, especially of 
England, might well be decisive of results. The 
policy to be pursued was under consideration. 
It was a grave topic, worthy of thoughtful con- 
sideration. Deeply impressed with the respon- 
sibility devolved upon him, Mr. Adams went 
with the new secretary to the State Depart- 
ment, whence, at the suggestion of the latter, 
they presently walked over to the White House, 
and were ushered into the room which more than 
thirty years before Mr. Adams associated most 
closely with his father, and his father’s trained 
bearing and methodical habits. Presently a 
door opened, and a tall, large-featured, shabbily 
dressed man, of uncouth appearance, slouched 
into the room. His much-kneed, ill-fitting trou. 
sers, coarse stockings, and worn slippers at once 
caught the eye. He seemed generally ill at 
ease, —in manner, constrained and shy. The 
secretary introduced the minister to the Presi- 
dent, and the appointee of the last proceeded 


146 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


to make the usual conventional remarks, expres- 
sive of obligation, and his hope that the con- 
fidence implied in the appointment he had re- 
ceived might not prove to have been misplaced. 
They had all by this time taken chairs; and the 
tall man listened in silent abstraction. When 
Mr. Adams had finished, — and he did not take 
long, — the tall man remarked in an indifferent, 
careless way that the appointment in question 
had not been his, but was due to the secretary 
of state, and that it was to ** Governor Seward ” 
rather than to himself that Mr. Adams should 
express any sense of obligation he might feel; 
then, stretching out his legs before him, he said, 
with an air of great relief as he swung his 
long arms to his head : —“ Well, governor, I’ve 
this morning decided that Chicago post-office 
appointment.””’ Mr. Adams and the nation’s 
foreign policy were dismissed together! Not 
another reference was made to them. Mr. Lin- 
coln seemed to think that the occasion called for 
nothing further; as to Mr. Adams, it was a 
good while before he recovered from his dis- 
may ;— he never recovered from his astonish- 
ment, nor did the impression then made ever 
wholly fade from his mind. Indeed, it was 
distinctly apparent in the eulogy on Seward 
delivered by him at Albany twelve years after- 
wards. 


CHAPTER IX 
THE PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 


LEAVING Boston on May Ist, Mr. Adams got 
to London late on the evening of the 138th. 
Hardly had he reached his hotel, when Joshua 
Bates was announced. Though the head of the 
great English banking firm of Baring Brothers, 
—reputed the first commercial house in the 
world, — Mr. Bates was Massachusetts born, 
having come from Weymouth, likewise the birth- 
place of Mr. Adams’s grandmother, Mrs. John 
Adams. Long settled in London, and rising by 
pure force of business capacity to the first place 
in the Royal Exchange, to Mr. Bates then and 
afterwards belonged the honorable distinction of 
being, in those dark and trying times, the most 
outspoken and loyal American domiciled on 
British soil. As such he now came first of all 
‘to express his satisfaction in seeing’ the newly 
arrived American minister, “‘and his uneasiness 
respecting the proceedings of the government.” 
“ T confess,’ added Mr. Adams, after mention- 
ing the visit of Mr. Bates, “the speech of Lord 
John Russell has excited in me no small sur- 


148 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


prise.’ The speech referred to was that in 
which Lord John Russell, then secretary for 
foreign affairs, had announced the purpose of 
the government to recognize the Confederacy as 
a belligerent, though not as an established and 
independent power; and the royal proclamation , 
to that effect met Mr. Adams’s eyes in the 
columns of the “ Gazette” of the following day. 
Since his nomination, exactly eight weeks before, 
events had moved hardly less rapidly in Europe 
than at home; though at home they had wit- 
nessed the fall of Sumter and the consequent 
uprising of the North. 

So far as the United States was concerned, — 
meaning by the term United States that portion 
of the Union which remained loyal, — the Eu- 
ropean conditions at that time, bad, very bad, 
in appearance, in their reality were still worse. 
Well calculated to excite alarm at the moment, 
looking back on them now, as they have since 
been disclosed, the wonder is over the subsequent 
escape. Indeed, it is not going too far to assert 
that, between May and November, 1861, the 
chances in Europe were as ten to one in favor 
of the Confederacy and against the Union. But, 
to appreciate the critical nature of the situation 
in which Mr. Adams now found himself, its 
leading features must be briefly reviewed. 


In London, Paris, Madrid, and St. Petersburg, 








PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 149 


and more especially in London and Paris, those 
entrusted with the management of the foreign 
relations of the several countries were, during 
the spring of 1861, following the course of 
American events with curious eyes,—eyes of 
wonderment. That course was in fact mislead- 
ing, if not bewildering, to a degree not easy now 
to realize. The uprising of the North took place 
in response to the proclamation of President 
Lincoln and to his first call for troops, issued 
on April 15th, the day following the fall of 
Sumter. It was immediate and unmistakable; 
but before that response, the outcome of the 
secession movement had been to all outward 
appearance as uncertain in America as, a month 
later, it seemed still to be in Europe. Up to 
the very day of the firing on Sumter the attitude 
of the Northern States, even in case of hostilities, 
was open to grave question; while, on the other 
hand, that of the border slave States did not 
admit of doubt. General disintegration seemed 
imminent; nor was it clear that it would en- 
counter any very tormidable cohesive resistance. 
Not only were influential voices in the North 
earnestly arguing that the “erring sisters” 
should be permitted to ‘‘ depart in peace,” but, 
even so late as April 1st, the correspondents of 
the European press reported men as prominent, 
and shortly afterwards as decided, as Charles 


150 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Sumner and Salmon P. Chase — the one a 
senator from Massachusetts, the other the 
secretary of the treasury —intimating more 
than a willingness to allow the “ Southern States 
to go out with their slavery, if they so desired 
it.’ At the same time the mayor of the city of 
New York, in an official message to the munici- 
pal legislative department, calmly discussed and 
distinctly advocated the expediency of that 
municipality also withdrawing itself from both 
Union and State, and proclaiming itself a free 
port of the Hanse type. Not without ground, 
therefore, did the London ‘“ Times” now declare 
that, to those ‘who look at things from a dis- 
tance, it appears as if not only States were to 
be separated from States, but even as if States 
themselves were to be broken up, the counties 
assuming to themselves the same rights of sover- 
elgn power as have been arrogated by the larger 
divisions of the country.” All this time the 
Southern sympathizers throughout the loyal 
States were earnest, outspoken, and defiant; 
while Mr. Seward, the member of the Presi- 
dent’s Cabinet in charge of foreign affairs, both 
in his official papers and his private talk, repu- 
diated not only the right but the wish even ‘to 
use armed force in subjugating the Southern 
States against the will of a majority of the peo- 
ple;” and declared that the President “ willingly” 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 151 


aecepted as true the “cardinal dogma” of the 
seceding States, that “the federal government 
could not reduce them to obedience by conquest,” 
— the very thing subsequently done. All philo- 
sophical disquisitions of this character were a 
few days later effectually silenced in a passion- 
ate outburst of aroused patriotism; but, none 
the less, for the time being they were in vogue, 
and, while in vogue, they puzzled and deceived. 
European public men could not understand such 
utterances; and, not understanding them, put 
on them a false construction. 

The continental nations in those days got the 
little knowledge they had of American affairs at 
second-hand, —from English sources; and Eng- 
land looked largely to the “ Times.” The legend 
of “the Thunderer,” as portrayed by Kinglake 
in his history of the Crimean War, still held 
sway, and “the Thunderer” had sent out to 
America Dr. William H. Russell, the famous 
special war correspondent with the army be- 
fore Sebastopol, to enlighten Europe as to the 
true inwardness of affairs. Dr. Russell landed 
in New York in the middle of March, 1861, — 
just one month before the great uprising ; and 
the feature in the situation which seemed to im- 
press him most was the dilettante, insouciant 
tone with which in all circles the outcome of the 
political situation was discussed. In his own 


152 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


words, describing the atmosphere he found in 
the foremost social, monetary, and _ political 
circles of New York, “there was not the slight- 
est evidence of uneasiness on account of cirecum- 
stances which, to the eye of a stranger, betokened 
an awful crisis, if not the impending dissolution 
of society itself.” This was written on March 
19th, the day the appointment of Mr. Adams was 
announced from Washington ; and a fortnight 
later, having then got to that city, Dr. Russell 
wrote: ‘“ Practically, so far as I have gone, I 
have failed to meet many people who really ex- 
hibited any passionate attachment to the Union, 
or who pretended to be actuated by any strong 
feeling of regard or admiration for the govern- 
ment of the United States in itself.” Such 
were the views and conclusions of an unpreju- 
diced observer, communicated through the me- 
dium of the most influential journal in the world 
to Europe in general, and, more especially, to 
those then comprising Her Majesty’s govern- 
ment. 

In May, 1861, the so-called Palmerston-Rus- 
sell ministry had been in power a little less than 
two years, having displaced the preceding con- 
servative government, of which Lord Derby was 
the head, in June, 1859. So far as the indi- 
vidual talents of those composing it were con- 
cerned, this ministry was looked upon as the 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 153 


strongest ever formed. Lord Palmerston was 
Premier, and led the Commons; Lord John 
Russell, as he still was, had charge of foreign 
affairs; Mr. Gladstone was chancellor of the 
exchequer; and Sir George Cornewall Lewis 
was secretary for war. The long list of subor- 
dinate positions was filled with other names of 
mark and weight. When the returns of the 
parliamentary election were first complete, the 
Liberal party was supposed to be almost hope- 
lessly broken up. Afterwards, through an un- 
derstanding reached between the two chieftains, 
Palmerston and Russell, it had become singu- 
larly compact; and, under a strong government, 
confronted, with a small but reliable majority, a 
vigorous opposition skillfully led by Mr. Disraeli. 
In 1861 Lord Palmerston was in his seventy- 
seventh year, and Lord John Russell was eight 
years his junior; both were among the oldest 
and most experienced, and were ranked among 
the ablest, of European statesmen. So far as the 
complications in America were concerned, the 
current supposition was that the sympathies of 
Lord John would naturally incline towards the 
loyalists as representing the anti-slavery senti- 
ment, while Lord Palmerston would almost cer- 
tainly array himself more or less openly on the . 
side of the slaveholding secessionists. The posi- 
tion of France was not understood. In America, 


154 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


a vague impression prevailed, based on old Re- 
volutionary memories, of a friendly feeling be- 
tween the two countries as against Great Britain. 
Traditionally they were allies. Accordingly Dr. 
Russell noted, so soon as he began to mix in 
New York social life and listen to the conversa- 
tion at its dinner-tables, that ‘‘it was taken for 
eranted that Great Britain would only act on 
sordid motives, but that the well-known affec- 
tion of France for the United States is to check 
the selfishness of her rival, and prevent a speedy 
recognition.” This was the loose, uninstructed 
talk of the club and street; but in better in- 
formed circles it was whispered that the French 
minister at Washington was advising his goy- 
ernment of the early and inevitable disintegra- 
tion of the Union, and suggesting that formal 
recognition of the new Confederacy for which a 
little later Louis Napoleon intimated readiness. 
The Emperor, in fact, was already maturing his 
Mexican schemes, and, in connection with them, 
covertly making overtures looking to the early 
and complete disruption of the United States. 
So far as public opinion was concerned, Great 
Britain, and more especially England, was in a 
curious condition. Sentiment had not erystal- 
lized. The governing and aristocratic classes, 
especially in London, were at heart in sympathy 
with the slaveholding movement, and, regard- 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 155 


ing the trans-Atlantic experiment as the pioneer 
of a popular movement at home, now hoped and 
believed that “ the great Republican bubble in 
America had burst.” Of this they made no con- 
cealment; but, constrained to an extent by théir 
old record and utterances as respects slavery and 
its wrongs, —their lionizing of Mrs. Stowe, and 
their reflections on the depth of that barbarism 
which made possible such brutalities as the as- 
sault on Sumner, —reflecting on all this, they 
now had recourse to one of those pharisaic, better- 
than-thou moods at times characteristic of the 
race. People, who in their own belief, as well as 
in common acceptance, were the best England 
had, vied with each other in expressions of as- 
tonishment that such a condition of affairs as that 
now day by day disclosed in America could exist, 
and, with wearisome, just-what-I-expected itera- 
tion, pretended bewilderment over what their kin 
across the sea were generally about. Quietly for- 
getful of Ireland, English men and women won- 
dered why Americans should object to national 
suicide, or, as they euphemistically phrased it, 
friendly separation. Language quite failed them 
in which adequately to express their sense of the 
violence, coarseness, and lack of Christian and 
brotherly feeling which marked the controversy. 
Aristocratic England was in fact in one of its 
least pleasing mental and moral phases, — a phase 


156 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


in which the unctuous benignity of Chadband 
combined with the hypocritical cant of Peck- 
sniff. Such was the prevailing social tone. 
When, it was declared, “‘ calmer reflection shall 
have succeeded to that storm of passion now 
sweeping over the North,” the citizens of the 
United States would consider as their “ sincerest 
friends”’ those who now sought to secure the re- 
cognition of the Confederacy ; for such were 
moved so to do “not from any hostility towards 
them, nor from any advocacy of slavery, but 
from love of peace and unrestricted commerce, 
from horror of civil war and unrestrained 
hatred ;” and so on ad nauseam in that famil- 
lar, conventicle strain so dear to the British 
Philistine, in which the angry bulldog growl 
grates harshly beneath the preacher’s lachry- 
mose whine. On the other hand, the large non- 
conforming, dissenting, middle-class element, — 
that best represented by Cobden, Bright, and 
Forster, —the friends of free labor and advo- 
cates of a democratic republic, naturally well 
disposed to the loyal side in the American con- 
test, —the men of this class were taken by 
surprise and quite demoralized in action by the 
rapidity with which events moved. They were 
bewildered by the apparent and quite inexpli- 
cable indifference which seemed to prevail in the 
free States, while the procession of slave States 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 157 


was noisily flaunting out of the Union. Time 
was necessary in which to enable these men — 
the real rulers of England — to inform them- 
selves as to the true situation, and to concen- 
trate their scattered forces. Unless swept off 
their feet by some blind popular impulse, such 
as those only a few years before engineered by 
the wily Palmerston in the “ opium war” and 
the Crimean war, Bright and Cobden and 
Forster could be relied on, working upon the 
old lines, gradually to arouse the moral sense 
of their countrymen. 

Meanwhile the foreign ministers appointed 
under the Buchanan administration were still at 
their posts, though expecting soon to be relieved, 
—among them, Mr. Dallas, of Philadelphia, at 
London, Mr. Faulkner, of Virginia, at Paris, 
and Mr. Preston, of Kentucky, at Madrid. 
Pending the appointment and arrival of their 
successors these gentlemen had been notified by 
a circular from Secretary Seward, issued as 
soon as he entered upon the duties of his office, 
to “use all proper and necessary measures to 
prevent the success of efforts which may be 
made by persons claiming to represent [the se- 
ceding States] to procure recognition.” In com- 
pliance with these instructions, Mr. Dallas, on 
April 8th, had an interview with Lord John 
Russell, in the course of which he received assur- 


158 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ances, which he transmitted to Washington, that 
“the coming of Mr. Adams would doubtless be 
regarded as the appropriate occasion for finally 
discussing and determining the question” of 
the attitude to be taken by Great Britain in 
view of the American troubles. The dispatch 
from Mr. Dallas containing this assurance was 
received at the State Department shortly after 
the middle of April, and to the confidence caused 
by it that nothing would be done until the ar- 
rival of Mr. Adams, was due the fact that Mr. 
Adams was not earlier hurried to his post. As 
it was, his instructions, bearing date the 10th, 
did not reach Mr. Adams until Saturday the 
27th of April, and he sailed four days later, on 
Wednesday, the Ist of May. Meanwhile the 
startling news of the fall of Fort Sumter had 
preceded him, reaching London on April 26th, 
seventeen days before he landed at Liverpool ; 
and during those days the agents of the Con- 
federate government then in Europe, Messrs. 
W. L. Yancey, of Alabama, and P. A. Rost, of 
Louisiana, had not been idle. First on the 
ground, they had, though in an “unofficial” 
way, also obtained access to the British secre- 
tary for foreign affairs. 

James L. Orr, of South Carolina, for a time 
chairman of the House Committee on Foreign 
Affairs of the Confederate Congress, is author- 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 159 


ity for the statement that the Confederacy 
‘never had a foreign policy, nor did its gov- 
ernment ever consent to attempt a high diplo- 
macy with European powers.” Historically 
speaking, this assertion does not seem to have 
been inconsistent with the facts; and the ab- 
sence of a sagacious, far-reaching, diplomatic 
policy on the part of the Confederacy was ap- 
parently due to a double error into which its 
executive head, Jefferson Davis, early fell. He 
at once overestimated the natural influences at 
work in behalf of the Confederates, and under- 
estimated his enemy. Immediately after his in- 
auguration at Montgomery on February 18th, 
and before making any civil appointment, Mr. 
Davis had sent for Mr. Yancey and offered him 
his choice of positions within the executive gift. 
Upon his intimating the usual modest preference 
for service in a private capacity, Davis insisted 
on the acceptance by him of one of two places, 
—a cabinet portfolio, or the head of the com- 
mission to Europe for which the Confederate 
Congress had already provided. At the same 
time, the new President intimated a wish that 
the latter might be preferred. The selection was 
not in all respects judicious ; for while Jefferson 
Davis in his dealings with European nations nat- 
urally desired to keep slavery, as a factor in se- 
cession, in the background, and above all to deny 


160 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


any desire, much more an intention, on the part 
of the Confederacy to reopen the African slave 
trade, Mr. Yancey was, both by act and utter- 
ance, more identified in the public mind than 
any other Southern man with both those 
causes. That gentleman, however, now sub- 
mitted to his brother, B. C. Yancey, who had 
some diplomatic experience, the Davis proposi- 
tion. Should he accept the first place in the 
proposed European commission? B. C. Yan- 
cey advised strongly against his so doing, and 
the points he urged showed a very considerable 
insight into the real facts of the situation as 
they subsequently developed. The year before, 
while returning from a diplomatic mission to 
one of the South American states, B. C. Yan- 
cey had passed some time in England, and, 
while there, had sought to inform himself as to 
the currents of public opinion, and their prob- 
able action in case a slave confederacy should 
be formed and should seek recognition. Though 
the British suffrage had not then been so en- 
larged as to include the laboring classes, he 
became satisfied that the government was on 
that account hardly the less respectful of their 
wishes. Cobden and Bright were the leaders of 
the working classes; and Cobden and Bright 
would oppose any recognition of a govern- 
ment based on a system of African slave labor. 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 161 


Unless, therefore, the Confederacy was prepared 
to authorize through its commission commercial 
advantages so liberal as to outweigh all other 
considerations, no British government, however 
well disposed, would in the end venture to run 
counter to the anti-slavery feeling of the coun- 
try by arecognition of the Confederacy. Unless 
armed in advance with authority to commit the 
Confederacy to this length, B. C. Yancey ad- 
vised his brother to have nothing to do with the 
proffered mission. 

Under the provisions of the Confederate Con- 
stitution it was for the President to determine 
the scope of any diplomatic function. At this 
point, therefore, Jefferson Davis became the 
leading factor in the situation. His idiosyn- 
erasies had to be taken into account; and they 
were so taken. Though an able man and of 
strong will, Mr. Davis had little personal know- 
ledge of countries other than his own, or, in- 
deed, of more than a section of his own 
country ; but, most unfortunately for himself and 
for the cause of which he became the expo- 
nent, he was dominated — for no other word ex- 
presses the case—by an undue and, indeed, an 
overweening faith in the practical world-mastery 
enjoyed by that section through its exclusive 
production and consequent control of cotton, 
its great agricultural staple. That Cotton was 


162 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


indeed King, and would in the end so be 
found, was his unswerving conviction. As 
Mrs. Davis subsequently expressed it in her 
biography of her husband: “The President and 
his advisers looked to the stringency of the 
English cotton market, and the suspension of 
the manufactories, to send up a ground swell 
from the English operatives, that would compel 
recognition ;” or, as Dr. Russell, writing to the 
same effect from Montgomery, put it at this 
very time: ‘They firmly believe that the war 
will not last a year... . They believe in the 
irresistible power of cotton, in the natural al- 
liance between manufacturing England and 
France and the cotton-producing slave States, 
and in the force of their simple tariff.” So 
much for the leading trump card President Da- 
vis held in the great game he was about to play. 
Meanwhile, on the other hand, he entertained a 
somewhat unduly low opinion, approaching even 
contempt, for the physical courage, military ca- 
pacity, and patriotic devotion of his adversaries. 
He did not permit himself for an instant to 
doubt the ability of the Confederacy to hold 
the United States firmly in check during any 
amount of time needed to enable the cotton 
famine to do its work thoroughly. Neither, it 
must now be admitted, did he err on this point. 
His error lay in his estimate of the potency of a 
cotton famine, as a factor in foreign polities. 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 163 


From Mr. Davis’s point of view, consequently, 
the diplomatic problem before the Confederacy 
was one easy of solution. VIf no cotton was 
allowed to go forward, Great Britain would in 
less than six months be starved into subjection ; 
she must raise the blockade to preserve her in- 
ternal peace, if not to prevent revolution. Under 
these circumstances, it was obviously unnecessary 
to concede through diplomacy much, if anything, 
to secure that which the Confederacy had the 
power, and fully purposed, to compel. This was 
a perfectly logical view of the situation from the 
Confederate standpoint, and the early events of 
the struggle went far to justify it. In a few 
weeks after hostilities began, cotton doubled in 
price. The Confederate Congress next put a 
discriminating tax on its production, while in 
the seceding States it was common talk that all 
the cotton on hand ought to be destroyed by the 
government, and formal notice should be served 
on Great Britain that no crop would be planted 
until after the full recognition of the Confeder- 
acy. On the other hand, the physical power of 
the South as a resisting force was demonstrated 
at Bull Run ; and, as Mrs. Davis says, the neces- 
sary time in which to make the cotton famine 
felt being absolutely assured after that engage- 
ment, “foreign recognition was looked forward 
to as an assured fact.” Such was the diplomacy 


164 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


of President Davis. It at least possessed the 
virtue of simplicity. 

On the other hand there were weak points, — 
points, indeed, of almost incredible weakness, in 
the diplomacy of the United States. Fortunately 
they were only suspected. Even so, they gave 
an infinity of trouble; had they been known, 
they could hardly have failed to be the cause of 
irreparable disaster. At an early stage of the 
war it became quite apparent both at Washing- 
ton and at Richmond that by some understand- 
ing already reached, partly express and partly 
tacit, the nations of Europe had decided to leave 
the initiative in all action touching the Ameri- 
can contest to Great Britain and France, as be- 
ing the two powers most intimately concerned ; 
and France again looked to Great Britain for 
a lead. Thus from the very outset, so far as 
Europe was concerned, Great Britain became 
for America the storm centre ; and, in that cen- 
tre, the danger focused in London. *In London 
the new American foreign secretary was re- 
garded with grave suspicion. Not only was Mr. 
Seward believed in official circles to be unreliable 
and to the last degree tricky, but he was assumed 
to be actuated by a thoroughly unscrupulous dis- 
regard not only of treaty obligations but, so far 
as foreign nations and especially Great Britain 
were concerned, of international morals. 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 165 


This impression, vague and accordingly diffi- 
cult to combat, dated far back, even to the 
McLeod case when, twenty years previous, Mr. 
Seward had been governor of New York, and 
as such had sustained the state courts in some 
rather questionable legal positions, which occa- 
sioned Mr. Webster, then secretary of state, 
more or less trouble. More recently he had 
fallen into some indiscretion of social speech, 
concerning which various accounts were at times 
current, and these still further complicated a sit- 
uation at best difficult. The incident is supposed 
to have occurred during the visit of the Prince 
of Wales to the United States, in 1860, and at a 
dinner given to him in Albany. The story is 
that Mr. Seward, “ fond of badinage,” as Dr. Rus- 
sell expressed it, then in a jocose way intimated to 
the Duke of Newcastle, who was at the head of 
the Prince’s suite, that he [Seward] expected 
*¢soon to hold a very high office here in my own 
country ; it will then,” he was alleged to have 
added, “ become my duty to insult England, and 
I mean to do so.” Subsequently Mr. Weed 
wrote to Mr. Seward about the matter. Mr. 
Seward, in reply, professed himself greatly sur- 
prised, but said the story was so absurd that to 
notice it by a denial would on his part be almost 
a sacrifice of personal dignity. None the less, 
there can be no doubt that such a story did ema- 


166 CHARLES, FRANCIS ADAMS 


nate from the Duke of Newcastle; and, during 
the years that followed, it is equally undeniable 
that the story in question made its appearance 
with great regularity, though in form variously 
modified, whenever the relations between the 
United States and Great Britain were, in ap- 
pearance or reality, in any way “strained.” 
The fact seems to have been that, on the occa- 
sion referred to, Mr. Seward indulged in what 
he intended for some playful “chaff” of the 
Duke, in no degree seriously meant, or to be 
taken seriously. It was a form of social inter- 
course to which Mr. Seward was a good deal 
addicted, especially at dinner-table, and when 
conversation was stimulated by champagne. Not 
that the idle, ill-natured talk, so current at one 
time concerning him on this head, was true; for 
it was not. Partly society gossip, and partly per- 
sonal and political malevolence, it has since been 
forgotten. But Governor Seward was social ; 
and, at table, in no way abstemious. He enjoyed 
his food, his wine, and his cigar; and, having 
in him this element of good fellowship, his 
tongue sometimes yielded to its influence. Under 
these circumstances and in this mood, not know- 
ing his Grace of Newcastle well, or weighing the 
construction that might be put on his words, it 
is supposed that the senator, as he then was, in 
clumsy, humorous vein, on the occasion in ques- 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 167 


tion, let the American eagle scream, to the 
grave and lasting perplexity of his table neigh- 
bor. By that neighbor his talk was afterwards 
repeated, and then again by others repeated, 
until it assumed the veritas in vino form of an 
indiscreet dinner-table disclosure. 

Fortunately this mere social indiscretion ad- 
mitted of explanation and denial; but that, at 
a later day, some such idea respecting Great 
Britain as that commonly imputed to him, was 
really lurking in Secretary Seward’s mind, is 
shown by the memorandum entitled “Some 
Thoughts for the President’s Consideration,” 
which bore date April 1, 1861, and was first 
made public from among his papers by Lin- 
coln’s biographers, Messrs. Nicolay and Hay, 
nearly thirty years later. This paper, the very 
existence of which had probably passed out of 
Mr. Seward’s recolleetion, Mr. Adams never 
saw; indeed it was not published until after 
his death. He never had an opportunity, there- 
fore, to offer his explanation of the enigma. 
Meanwhile he had dined with Secretary Seward 
in Washington on the evening of March 30th, 
two days before the paper in question was dated 
and handed to Mr. Lincoln. It must then have 
been in its writer’s mind; but, if so, it was not 
reflected in the slightest degree either in his in- 
timate conversation, or in the instructions to 


168 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


various ministers then lying on his desk, and 
submitted to Mr. Adams for perusal. None the 
less, it is now undeniable that, so late as April 
1, 1861, Mr. Seward was gravely proposing to 
the President, as a national distraction from im- 
pending troubles, a general foreign war, to be 
provoked by that very attitude towards Great 
Britain which had been foreshadowed in the 
alleged apocryphal dinner-table talk of six 
months earlier. That talk caused Mr. Adams, 
first and last, almost endless annoyance and 
trouble; and it was certainly fortunate for the 
outgoing minister to Great Britain that the 
secretary had in no degree taken him into his 
inmost confidence during that gentleman’s visit 
to Washington before starting to assume the 
duties of his position. Had he done so, the 
minister could scarcely have denied as persist- 
ently as the exigencies of the case called for 
the stories of Mr. Seward’s animus towards 
Great Britain. As will shortly be seen, also, 
the memorandum of April Ist only a few weeks 
later exercised an influence not recognized at the 
time, nor indeed until long years after, on other 
instructions sent to Mr. Adams which only just 
failed suddenly to end his mission. 

The details of the fall of Sumter and the sub- 
sequent proclamation of Lincoln appeared in the 


London papers of April 27th, and on May Ist 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 169 


Lord John Russell sent for Mr. Dallas, in con- 
sequence of the reports which immediately began 
to circulate as to the intentions of President Lin- 
colu regarding a blockade of the Southern coast 
and the discontinuance of its harbors as ports of 
entry. At this interview Lord John informed 
Mr. Dallas of the arrival in London of Messrs, 
Yancey and Rost, and intimated that an inter- 
view had been sought, and that he was not un- 
willing to see them “unofficially.”’ He at the 
same time gave notice of an understanding 
reached between the governments of France and 
England that the two countries should act to- 
gether, and take the same course as to recogni- 
tion. Mr. Dallas in his turn informed Lord 
John that Mr. Adams was to sail from Boston 
that very day, and would be in London in two 
weeks, and it was accordingly again agreed to 
pay no attention to ‘mere rumors,” but to await 
the arrival of the new minister, who would have 
full knowledge of the intentions of his govern- 
ment. The next day (May 2d) in response to 
questions in the House of Commons, Lord John 
announced it as the policy of the government 
“to avoid taking any part in the lamentable 
contest now raging in the American States.” 
‘“ We have not,” he declared, “been involved 
in any way in that contest by any act or giving 
any advice in the matter, and, for God’s sake, 
let us if possible keep out of it.” 


170 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


The following day the two Confederate com- 
missioners were received by Lord John “ un- 
officially.” They owed this favor to the friendly 
intercession of Mr. W. H. Gregory, an Irish 
member of Parliament of strong Confederate 
proclivities, who must have been very active in 
their behalf, as, leaving New Orleans at the 
close of March, they did not reach England 
until Monday, the 29th of April, and on Thurs- 
day, May 2d, the day after Mr. Adams left 
Boston, they were in the foreign secretary’s 
reception-room. Into the details of this inter- 
view it is not necessary here to enter. It is 
sufficient to say that it afforded a fair example 
of the Confederate diplomacy. On the part of 
the Southern commissioners it was essentially 
weak, — in reality apologetic so far as slavery 
was concerned, and altogether empty as respects 
inducements for aid. Lord John Russell was an 
attentive listener merely. 

This was on May 2d; and, on the 6th, the 
questions involved having in the meantime been 
considered by the government, and the opinions 
of the crown lawyers obtained, the foreign 
secretary formally announced in the Commons 
that belligerent rights would be conceded to the 
Confederacy. Five days later, on May 11th, 
President Lincoln’s proclamation of blockade 
was officially communicated to the British 


bd 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 171 


government by Mr. Dallas, together with a copy 
of Secretary Seward’s cireular of April 20th 
addressed to the foreign ministers of the United 
States in relation to privateers against American 
commerce fitted out in accordance with President 
Davis’s letter-of-marque notification of three 
days previous. A copy of this document had, 
however, already reached the Foreign Office, 
transmitted by Lord Lyons. The Queen’s pro- 
clamation of neutrality, announced by Sir 
George Lewis in the House of Commons as 
contemplated, on the 9th, was formally author- 
ized on the 13th, and appeared officially in the 
*‘ London Gazette” of the following day ; the ar- 
rival of the Niagara, with Mr. Adams on board, 
at Queenstown having been telegraphed to Lon- 
don on the 12th. 

Such was the sequence of events. Unques- 
tionably the Queen’s proclamation followed hard 
upon the “ unofficial” reception of the com- 
missioners, — so hard, indeed, as to be strongly 
suggestive of connection. The natural inference 
was that the one event contributed to the other; 
and the commissioners, with apparent grounds, 
professed themselves entirely satisfied with the 
results of their conference. But, whether the 
representations made to the British foreign 
secretary by Messrs. Yancey and Rost on May 
3d did or did not affect the decision announced 


172 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


by Her Majesty’s government on the 6th, there 
can be no question that the proclamation of the 
18th was issued with unseemly haste, and in 
disregard of the assurances given to Mr. Dallas 
only five days previous. The purpose was 
manifest. It was to have the status of the Con- 
federacy, as a belligerent, an accomplished fact 
before the arrival of the newly accredited 
minister. ‘This precipitate action was chiefly 
significant as indicating an animus; that animus 
being really based on the agreement for joint 
action just reached between the governments of 
Great Britain and France, and the belief, already 
matured into a conviction, that the full recogni- 
tion of the Confederacy as an independent power 
was merely a question of time, and probably 
of a very short time. 

The feeling excited in America, and among 
Americans in Europe, by this precipitate act, 
was intense; and the indignation was more out- 
spoken than discreet, being largely minatory and 
based on the assumed greater friendliness of 
France. It must also be conceded that loyal 
America was then in a mental condition closely 
verging on hysteria. It could see things only 
from one point of view; and that point of view 
its own as then occupied. The insouciance of 
the period prior to April 13th was wholly 
gone, — something of the forgotten past; and 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 173 


the bitter denunciation now poured forth on 
Great Britain knew no limit: but there rang 
through it, distinctly perceptible, a well-grounded 
tone of alarm. The possible imminence of a 
great disaster was recognized. 

Looking back on the incident in the full light 
of subsequent events, it will now be conceded 
that, had Great Britain then been actuated by 
really friendly feelings, the thing would not have 
been done at just that time, or in that brusque 
way, highly characteristic though it was of Lord 
John Russell; on the other hand, that it was 
done then and in that way proved in the result 
most fortunate, not only for Mr. Adams person- 
ally but for the cause he represented. Great 
Britain having through its foreign secretary’s 
action put itself in the wrong, Lord John there- 
after, under the steady pressure to which he was 
subjected, found himself on the defensive, and 
insensibly became correspondingly over-cautious. 
The weight of opinion, even among Americans, 
has since tended to the conclusion that the pro- 
clamation of May 13th admitted of justification ;} 
but, whether it did or no while issued at that 
precise time and in that way, it certainly could 
not have been deferred later than immediately 
after the arrival of the news of the disaster of 
Bull Run, shortly before the close of the follow- 

1 Rhodes, iii. 420, note. 


174 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ing July: and, if then considered and conceded, 
it might well have carried with it a full recogni- 
tion of the Confederacy. As it was, the partial 
and ill-considered concession proved final, and, 
as matter of fact, precluded the more important 
ulterior step. None the less, at the moment 
Mr. Adams regarded it as a most adverse and 
unfortunate opening of his diplomatic career. 
It so chanced that Lord John’s eldest brother, 
the Duke of Bedford, died at just this time; so 
the interview at the Foreign Office which had 
been arranged for Mr. Adams the day after his 
arrival could not take place. Meanwhile a dis- 
patch from Mr. Dallas had been received in 
Washington foreshadowing the course after- 
wards pursued by the British government, and 
this dispatch had excited much indignation in 
the mind of Secretary Seward. He forthwith 
wrote to Mr. Adams, under date of April 27th, 
directing him at once to demand an explanation. 
This dispatch (No. 4) was, however, only pre- 
liminary to a far more important dispatch (No. 
10) of May 21st, and the two can best be con- 
sidered later on, and together. They involve a 
discussion, and if possible some explanation 
which shall at least be plausible, of the incident 
most difficult to account for in all Secretary 
Seward’s career, — the incident from which, it 
is not too much to say, his posthumous reputa- 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 175 


tion has suffered, and will probably continue to 
suffer, great injury. 

In the mean time, acting promptly on the in- 
structions contained in the dispatch of April 
27th, Mr. Adams requested an interview, and 
on Saturday, May 18th, drove out to Pembroke 
Lodge, where Lord John then was, for the first 
of his many interviews with the foreign secre- 
tary. He found him “a man of sixty-five 
or seventy, of about the same size as myself, 
with a face marked by care and thought rather 
than any strong expression. © His eye is, I think, 
blue and cold.” The conversation lasted more 
than an hour. Mr. Adams wrote that while, 
in carrying it on, he “avoided the awkward- 
ness of a categorical requisition, it was only to 
transfer the explanation to the other side of the 
water ;” and, he added, “my conclusion from 
it is that the permanency of my stay is by no 
means certain.” In the course of this important 
first interview, Mr. Adams and his future an- 
tagonist must instinctively have measured each 
other. On neither side, probably, was the con- 
clusion unsatisfactory. The two men were, in 
fact, from a certain similarity of disposition, 
naturally calculated to deal the one with the 
other. Of Earl Russell, as he was then soon to 
become, it has since been said by a writer very 
capable of forming an opinion, and with excep- 


176 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


tionally good means of correctly so doing in 
that case, that his “standard of private and 
public virtue was as high as that which any man 
has ever maintained in practice throughout a 
long and honored life;” ! and those who knew 
him best would not be indisposed to assert a simi- 
lar claim on behalf of Mr. Adams. Men of the 
highest character, public and private, both were 
marked by a certain simplicity and directness 
of manner and bearing, not unaccompanied by 
reserve, which must at once have commended 
them each to the other. Lord John was the older 
and much the more experienced of the two; but 
he could not, nor did he, fail at once to recognize 
in Mr. Adams a certain quiet undemonstrative 
force which bespoke one, like himself, of the 
genuine Anglo-Saxon stock. They thus, most 
fortunately for the great interests they had in 
charge, liked and respected each other, and got 
on together, from the start. 

All now went quietly until June 10th. On 
that day Mr. Adams received Mr. Seward’s dis- 
patch No. 10, of May 21st, written when the 
Queen’s Proclamation of Neutrality was plainly 
foreshadowed. Of it he wrote on a first pe- 
rusal: “*The government seems ready to de- 
clare war with all the powers of Europe, and 
almost instructs me to withdraw from communi- 


1 Trevelyan, The American Revolution, 8, 9. 


PROCLAMATION OF BELLIGERENCY 177 


cation with the ministers here, in a certain con- 
tingency. I scarcely know how to understand 
Mr. Seward. The rest of the government may 
be demented for all that I know; but he surely 
is calm and wise.” 


CHAPTER X 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 


‘“¢ My duty here is, so far as I can do it hon- 
estly, to prevent the mutual irritation from 
coming to a downright quarrel. It seems to me 
like throwing the game into the hands of the 
enemy. ... If a conflict with a handful of 
slaveholding States is to bring us to [our pre- 
sent pass] what are we to do when we throw 
down the glove to all Europe?” In these fur- 
ther words, in the extract just quoted from his 
diary, Mr. Adams set forth the whole policy 
which guided his action at London from the 
day he arrived to the day he left. During the 
early and doubtful period of the war it has al- 
ready been said that Mr. Seward was, in Europe 
at least, believed to entertain another view of 
a possible outcome of the situation. That he 
wished to provoke a foreign war was more than 
suspected. One great source of Mr. Adams’s 
diplomatic usefulness lay in the confidence he 
instinctively inspired by his directness and mani- 
fest sincerity. In these respects he came at last 
in Great Britain to be accepted as almost a re- 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 179 


verse of the secretary. What, as respects the 
foreign policy then to be pursued, lay in Secre- 
tary Seward’s mind in the spring and early 
summer — March to July —of 1861? This 
difficult problem is now to be considered. 

The dispatch just referred to as that num- 
bered ten, bearing date May 21st, and received 
by Mr. Adams on June 10th, was certainly a 
most extraordinary public paper. Its full se- 
eret history, also, did not come to light until 
disclosed by Messrs. Nicolay and Hay nearly 
thirty years after it was written.! It has been 
seen how it puzzled and dismayed Mr. Adams 
when he first received it. The fiercely aggres- 
sive, the well-nigh inconceivable, foreign policy 
it foreshadowed must, he thought, have been 
forced on the secretary by the other members 
of the administration ; but, in fact, though Mr. 
Adams never knew it, that dispatch, in the 
form in which it was originally drawn up by 
the secretary of state and by him submitted to 
the President, must have been designed to pre- 
cipitate a foreign war. Moreover, it would in- 
evitably have brought that result about but for 
Lincoln’s unseen intervention. The documents 
speak for themselves. To be read intelligently, 


1 The dispatch, as originally drafted by Secretary Seward, 
with Lincoln’s interlineations and omissions indicated in it, is 
printed in full in Nicolay and Hay, iv. 270-275. 


180 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the two dispatches to Mr. Adams of April 27th 
and May 21st, Nos. 4 and 10, must be read to- 
gether, and both in connection with the extra- 
ordinary paper entitled, “Some Thoughts for 
the President’s Consideration,” already alluded 
to, handed by Seward to Lincoln on April 1st. 
In that paper the secretary proposed to the 
President to take immediate measures calculated 
to “‘change the question before the [ American] 
public from one upon slavery, or about slavery, 
for a question upon union or disunion;” and to 
that end he recommended that explanations, in 
regard to their proceedings in the West India 
Islands and in Mexico, be demanded “ from 
Spain and France, categorically, at once. I 
would then,” he went on, “seek explanations 
from Great Britain and Russia, and send agents 
into Canada, Mexico, and Central America, to 
rouse a vigorous continental spirit of independ- 
ence on this continent against European inter- 
vention. And if satisfactory explanations are 
not received from Spain and France, would con- 
vene Congress and declare war against them.” 
Of course, if the policy here recommended had 
been followed, “ satisfactory explanations ” from 
the powers addressed would, under the circum- 
stances, have been neither expected nor desired. 
War was intended. ji 

The conception of a foreign policy of this 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 181 


character, at such a time, or at any time, seems 
so unstatesmanlike, so immoral, from any ra- 
tional point of view so impossible, that for a 
public man occupying a responsible position 
merely to have entertained it, subsequently dis- 
credits him. Yet that Secretary Seward did 
entertain it, long and seriously, in the spring of 
1861, and moreover that he abandoned it slowly, 
and only in the presence of facts impossible to 
ignore, cannot be gainsaid. This is matter of 
record. That Mr. Seward was, a statesman, 
astute, far-seeing and sagacious, with a strong 
grasp on facts and underlying principles, is 
hardly less matter of record. The thing cannot, 
therefore, be dismissed as an incomprehensible 
historical riddle, —a species of insoluble co- 
nundrum. It calls for explanation ; and any ex- 
planation offered must be at least plausible. 
Into the cabinet situation, as it then existed, 
it is not necessary here to enter in detail. It 
was undoubtedly more than trying. Seen in the 
light of subsequent events, it is assumed that 
the Lincoln of 1865 was also the Lincoln of 
1861. Historically speaking there can be no 
greater error; the President, who has since be- 
come a species of legend, was in March, 1861, 
an absolutely unknown, and by no means pro- 
mising, political quantity. During the years in- 
tervening between 1861 and 1865 the man de- 


182 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


veloped immensely ; he became in fact another 
being. History, indeed, hardly presents an anal- 
ogous case of education through trial. None the 
less the fact remains that when he first entered 
upon his high functions, President Lincoln filled 
with dismay those brought in contact with him. 
Without experience, he evinced no sense of the 
gravity of the situation or of the necessity of a 
well-considered policy. The division of offices 
among eager applicants seemed to engross his 
thoughts. The evidence is sufficient and con- 
clusive that, in this respect, he impressed others 
as he impressed Mr. Adams in their one char- 
acteristic interview. Thus an utter absence of 
lead in presence of a danger at once great and 
imminent, expressed the situation. 

There is every reason to believe that in those 
early days of their association, Seward, as the 
result of close personal contact and observation, 
shared in the common estimate of his official 
chief. Certainly, close as were his personal re- 
lations with Mr. Adams, preserving a discreet 
silence as respects his official chief, the secretary 
let no intimation escape him that, in the case 
of the President, appearances were deceptive. 
There can, also, be no question that Secretary 
Seward, when he entered upon his duties in 
the Department of State, did so with the idea 
that he would prove to be the virtual head of 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 183 


the government, — its directing mind. The 
early course of events in the cabinet was not 
what he anticipated. A highly incongruous 
body, hastily brought together, no member of it 
saw his way clearly, and differences immediately 
developed. Without a head, it seemed to have 
no prospect of having a head. In the direction 
of its councils, the secretary of state became 
day by day conscious of the fact that he was 
losing ground, and it was more and more mani- 
fest to him that a line of policy.almost sure to 
precipitate a civil war was likely soon to be 
adopted. The tension was too great to last; 
unless a new direction was given to the rapid 
course of events there must be a break. Plainly, 
something had to be done. 

Governor Seward, moreover, had all along 
asserted with the utmost confidence that no 
serious trouble would ensue from the change of 
administration ; that the South was not in ear- 
nest. A civil war was no part of his programme. 
Yet now he found the country confronted with 
it; and he himself was no longer held in high, 
if indeed in any, esteem as a political prophet. 

When, immediately before the inauguration, 
Mr. Seward tendered his resignation of the first 
place in the cabinet, the incoming President, 
after brief consideration, declined to accept it, 
characteristically observing that he “could not 


184 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


afford to let Seward take the first trick.” Fol- 
lowing out this not over-dignified figure of 
speech, it may be said that now, a month after 
the change of administration had taken place, 
Mr. Seward, in the course of the game, found 
himself “put to his trumps.” Under these cir- 
cumstances he seems to have rapidly matured a 
policy which he had long been meditating, —a 
policy reserved as a last resort. Falling back 
on what was with him a cardinal point of politi- 
cal faith, an almost inordinate belief in the sen- 
timental side of the American character, — its 
patriotism and its spirit of nationality, its self- 
confidence when aroused, — falling back on this, 
he thought to work from it as a basis of action. 
It was no new or sudden conception. On the 
contrary, months before, at the dinner of the 
New England Society in New York, during the 
previous December, referring to the secession of 
South Carolina which had then just been an- 
nounced, he declared that if New York should 
be attacked by any foreign power, “all the hills 
of South Carolina would pour forth their popu- 
lation to the rescue.” And two years and a half 
later, during the foreign crisis of the war, in 
precisely the same spirit he wrote to Sumner: 
*‘ Rouse the nationality of the American people. 
It is an instinct upon which you can always 
rely, even when the conscience that ought never 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 185 


to slumber is drugged to death.” Accordingly 
in March, 1861, he only repeated what he had 
written in his dispatches to Mr. Adams when 
he said to Dr. Russell, of the “Times,” that 
if a majority of the people in the seceded 
States really desired secession, he would let 
them have it; but he could not believe in 
anything so monstrous. Convinced, therefore, 
that the South was possessed by a passing mania, 
he was himself a victim of the delusion that, by 
a bold and unmistakable appeal-to a sentiment 
of a yet deeper and more permanent character, 
the evil spirit then in temporary possession 
might be exorcised; or, as he a few months be- 
fore had in the Senate expressed it, citing J effer- 
son as his authority, the “States must be kept 
within their constitutional sphere by impulsion, 
if they could not be held there by attraction.” 
This idea others shared with him, and it found 
frequent expression: but in his case, during 
April, May, and June, 1861, it amounted to 
what was almost a dangerous hallucination ; for 
he was secretary of state. 

In itself a morbid conception, the thought was 
further strengthened by another belief enter- 
tained by him as to the existence of a latent, 
but widespread, Union sentiment at the South, 
requiring only a sufficient stimulus to assert it- 
self and set everything right. This last article 


186 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


of faith was immediately due to the great num- 
ber of appealing letters which, after the elec- 
tion and before the inauguration of Lincoln, had 
poured in upon him in steady volume from the 
South in general, but more particularly from the 
border slave States. While he probably con- 
strued their contents liberally, to these he at 
the time made continual reference; and now he 
thought to use the sentiment revealed in them 
as the basis of a great educational movement. 
It was the material on which he proposed to 
work, 

The real condition of public opinion at the 
South, and the amount of Union sentiment there 
latent, was, of course, in the spring of 1861, a 
question of fact in regard to which men’s judg- 
ment varied according to their means of infor- 
mation and warmth of temperament. In reality, 
as Dr. Russell soon afterwards found out and 
advised Europe through the “ Times,” and as 
Seward himself later had to realize, those dwelling 
in the great region afterwards known as the 
Confederate States were of one mind. In that 
region, even as early as May, 1861, there was no 
Union sentiment; or, as Russell, while visiting 
the Confederacy in April, wrote to the “Times”: | 
“ Assuredly Mr. Seward cannot know anything 
of the South, or he would not be so confident 
that all would blow over.” In point of fact, at 


\ 
SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 187 


the very time Mr. Seward was conjuring up this 
widespread, latent Union sentiment in the South, 
the life of any man in the South even suspected 
of Union sentiments would not have been safe. 
But in the spring of 1861 a mistaken belief on 
the subject was not confined to Mr. Seward. 
Cassius M. Clay, for instance, came from Ken-— 
tucky, a slave State. Having all his life lived 
there, his means of information would be sup- 
posed to have been good, and his judgment pre- 
sumably correct. Yet so late as May 29, 1861, 
six weeks after the fall of Sumter, Cassius M. 
Clay, then on his way to represent the United 
States at St. Petersburg, asserted in a communi- 
cation printed in the London ‘“ Times” of May 
25th, that “the population of the slave States 
is divided perhaps equally for and against the 
Union.” More extraordinary yet, weeks later, 
in his message to Congress when it met on July 
4, 1861, President Lincoln put himself on 
record to the same effect. “It may well be 
questioned,” he then said, “‘ whether there is to- 
day the majority of the legally qualified voters 
of any State, except, perhaps, South Carolina, 
in favor of disunion. There is much reason to 
believe that the Union men are the majority in 
many, if not in every other one, of the so-called 
seceded States.” Mr. Seward was not alone in 
his hallucination. 


188 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


In like manner, on the other point, — the ef- 
fect of a foreign war as a diversion, — the Amer- 
ican correspondent of the “ Times,” —not Dr. 
Russell, — wrote as follows on May 21st, the 
very date of Seward’s dispatch No. 10 which 
so dismayed Mr. Adams:— ‘There are those 
here, high in influence too, who are actively 
aiming to create a cold feeling between Eng- 
land and the United States, under the belief 
that that will more effectually reconcile North 
and South than anything else. They argue that 
the presence of a foreign foe alone can recon- 
cile the disintegrated States, and they would 
court a foreign war rather than a civil one. 
Strange as it may sound, impracticable as it 
may appear, I assure you that such ideas are 
entertained and acted upon in New York.” The 
prevalence of this idea was also well known in 
England, and, on the 15th of June, William E. 
Forster, the stanchest friend America had, de- 
fended to Mr. Adams the action of the British 
government in sending out troops to Canada 
“by attributing to our government a desire to 
pick a quarrel with this country in the hopes of 
effecting by means of it a reunion.” 

The letter containing the extract just quoted 
from the *‘ Times ” was written from New York, 
and the feeling in it referred to may not im- 
possibly have been inspired by the secretary of 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 189 


state. A politician’s newspaper feeler, thus re- 
flecting the dispatch of May 21st. In any event 
the presence of such an idea in Seward’s mind 
at that juncture was plainly a grave additional 
source of national peril, and it would be inter- 
esting to trace the manifestations of it. These, 
however, though numerous and unequivocal, are 
scattered through the press and in official and 
other publications, and would be inappropriate 
here. ‘The essence of them, moreover, was con- 
densed in a single remark to Dr. Russell, made 
by the secretary in course of conversation on 
April 4th: “ Any attempt against us” by a for- 
eign power, Mr. Seward then said,“ would re- 
volt the good men of the South, and arm all 
men in the North to defend their government.” 

The policy thus assuming shape in the sec- 
retary’s mind was large, vague, visionary. To 
avert the impending issue, he would, as distinctly 
shadowed forth in his dispatch of May 21st, chal- 
lenge a yet greaterissue. Confidently appealing 
to the spirit of Americanism and of the age, to 
liberty, democracy, and the aspirations of the 
century, he was prepared to precipitate a gen- 
eral war, not unlike that of the Napoleonic pe- 
riod, fully confident that the United States 
would emerge from it victorious, purified, and 
more than ever consolidated. A great concep- 
tion, it was also a trifle Corsican ; and, though an 


190 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


able man, Mr. Seward was essentially a New 
Yorker, and not a Napoleon Bonaparte. Under 
the circumstances, therefore, it must be con- 
ceded that the scheme had in it elements not 
consistent with what is commonly known as 
sanity of judgment. 

Recurring to the course of events at Wash- 
ington and in London, a considerable interval 
elapsed between the two days, close together, on 
which Seward handed to Lincoln his memoran- 
dum of “ Thoughts ” and had the conversation 
just referred to with Dr. Russell, and that other 
day on which he wrote the bellicose dispatch 
No. 10 to Mr. Adams. The dates were seven 
weeks apart. In the interval the situation had 
altogether changed. Fort Sumter had fallen ; 
the President’s Proclamation had been issued ; 
Virginia and Tennessee had seceded. Another 
dispatch also had reached the secretary from 
Mr. Dallas announcing the arrival in Europe of 
the Confederate Commissioners, and that Earl 
Russell was disposed to accord them an “ unof- 
ficial’ interview. This very contingency had 
been anticipated by Mr. Seward in a dinner- 
table talk, at which Dr. Russell was present, be- 
fore April Ist. He had then declared that “ the 
Southern Commissioners could not be received 
by the government of any foreign power, offi- 
cially or otherwise, even to hand in a document 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 191 


or to make a representation, without incurring 
the risk of breaking off relations with the gov- 
ernment of the United States.” 

When he made this remark Mr. Seward must 
have been meditating his memorandum of 
“Thoughts for the President’s Consideration.” 
Four days later he handed it to Mr. Lincoln. 
The latter’s considerate method of dealing with 
that document, proposing, as it did, his abdica- 
tion of the functions of his office, and “two or 
more”’ foreign wars as a possible substitute for 
one domestic, is matter of history. He quietly 
put it aside. None the less, Secretary Seward 
evidently did not at once abandon the scheme 
therein outlined. He apparently still believed 
in it as a practical recourse, so to speak, — the 
last and largest trump card in the hand; and, a 
few weeks later, he seems to have concluded that 
the time to play it had come. Accordingly he 
now prepared the dispatch of May 21st, No. 10. 
Directing Mr. Adams in certain contingencies 
then sure to occur to confine himself ‘ simply 
to a delivery of a copy of this paper to the sec- 
retary of state,’ he in it used language to 
which no self-respecting government could sub- 
mit, —language so indecorous and threatening 
as to be tantamount to a declaration of war. 
If, he announced, Great Britain shall recognize 
the bearers of Confederate letters of marque as 


192 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


belligerents, and give them shelter from our 
pursuit and punishment, “the laws of nations 
afford an adequate and proper remedy, and we 
shall avail ourselves of it. . . . When this act 
of intervention is distinctly performed, we from 
that hour shall cease to be friends and become 
once more, as we have twice before been forced 
to be, enemies of Great Britain. . . . We are not 
insensible of the grave importance of this occa- 
sion. We see how, upon the result of the debate 
in which we are engaged, a war may ensue be- 
tween the United States, and one, two, or even 
more Kuropean nations. . . . A war not unlike 
it between the same parties occurred at the close 
of the last century. Europe atoned by forty 
years of suffering for the error that Great Britain 
committed in provoking that contest. If that 
nation shall now repeat the same great error the 
social convulsions which will follow may not be 
so long but they will be more general. When 
they shall have ceased it will, we think, be seen, 
whatever may have been the fortunes of other 
nations, that it is not the United States that 
will have come out of them with its precious 
Constitution altered or its honestly obtained do- 
minion in any degree abridged.” 1 


1The wrap-the-world-in-flames hallucination seems to have 
degenerated into something very like a formula in Mr. Sew- 
ard’s speech during the earlier Rebellion period. On the 4th 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 193 


It is not difficult to imagine what would have 
been the effect of a dispatch couched in these 
terms delivered in June, 1861, to a British gov- 
ernment of which Lord Palmerston was the 
head, with England then acting in full under- 
standing with France. The Confederacy would 
have been recognized, and the blockade of its 
coast, at that time hardly more than nominal, 
would have been disallowed almost before the 
American minister had rattled out of Downing 
Street. Thus, as originally drawn up, this ex- 
traordinary paper of May 21st was nothing 
more nor less than a definite commitment of the 
United States to the policy outlined by Seward 
in the “ Thoughts”’ of the first of the previous 
April, — “I would demand explanations from 


of July Russell of the Times had a talk with him at the 
State Department. In the course of it, six weeks after writ- 
ing the dispatch of May 21st, the Secretary said : — “ We have 
less to fear from a foreign war than any country in the world. 
If any European power provokes a war, we shall not shrink 
from it. A contest between Great Britain and the United 
States would wrap the world in fire, and at the end it would 
not be the United States which would have to lament the 
result of the conflict.” (My Diary, 381.) More than six 
months later, January 22, 1862, he wrote to Thurlow Weed : — 
“ Nevertheless, I do know this, that whatever nation makes 
war against us, or forces itself into a war, will find out that we 
can and shall suppress rebellion and defeat invaders besides. 
The courage and the determination of the American people 
are aroused for any needful effort — any national sacrifice.” 


(Life of Weed, ii. 410.) 


194 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Spain and France, categorically, at once. I 
would seek explanations from Great Britain and 
Russia, . . . and, if satisfactory explanations 
are not received, . . . would convene Congress 
and declare war against them.” Fortunately the 
memorandum of * Thoughts,” of April Ist, had 
forewarned Mr. Lincoln, and the influence of the 
earlier paper was immediately apparent in his 
treatment of the paper of May 21st, now sub- 
mitted. “It was Mr. Seward’s ordinary habit 
personally to read his dispatches to the President 
before sending them. Mr. Lincoln, detecting 
the defects of the paper, retained it, and after 
careful scrutiny made such material corrections 
and alterations with his own hand as took from 
it all offensive crudeness without in the least 
lowering its tone; but, on the contrary, greatly 
increasing its dignity. . . . When the President 
returned the manuscript to his hands, Mr. Sew- 
ard somewhat changed the form of the dispatch 
by [omitting most of the phrases above quoted 
and] prefixing to it two short introductory para- 
graphs in which he embodied, in his own 
phraseology, the President’s direction that the 
paper was to be merely a confidential instruc- 
tion, not to be read or shown to any one.’’! 
And in this happily modified form it came into 
the hands of Mr. Adams. A collision between 
1 Nicolay and Hay, iv. 269, 270. 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 195 


the two countries was thus narrowly, and for the 
moment avoided! Fortunately, as will presently 
be seen, Mr. Seward’s views about this time 
underwent a change. As a result of the battle 
of Bull Run two months later, he recovered his 
mental poise, and, quite dismissing the illusion 
of a latent Union sentiment to be invoked in 
the South, ceased to look upon a more or less 
general foreign war as a means of escape, both 
natural and legitimate, from dissension at home. 

Too much space has, perhaps, been devoted 
to this bit of secret history. If so, its interest 
as well as its importance must be a justification. 
For the United States, it was a piece of supreme 
good fortune then to have in Great Britain so 
discreet a representative, unimpulsive and bent 
on a maintenance of the peace. It would have 
been very easy at just that juncture to have pro- 
voked a crisis, which must have been decisive, 
though, as the result showed, wholly unnecessary. 
So far as Mr. Adams himself was concerned, no 
minister of the United States probably ever had 
so narrow an escape as his then was from a 
position which could not have been otherwise than 
humiliating to the last degree. It was, too, at 
the threshold of a diplomatic life. As to Mr. 
Seward, it would be useless to philosophize. His 
management as a whole of the country’s foreign 
relations during the Rebellion speaks for itself. 


196 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


It was a magnificent success. Alone of all the 
departments of the government, the State De- 
partment proved from the beginning, and to 
the end, in every respect equal to the occasion. 
Carrying things always with a high hand, pre- 
serving in each emergency a steady and un- 
broken front, never betraying sign of weakness, 
or lowering the national dignity, Mr. Seward 
extricated the country from whatever difficulty 
it had to encounter; nor were those difficulties 
few or slight. His success in so doing was so 
great and so uniform that it seems since to have 
been almost assumed as of course. Scant jus- 
tice has accordingly been rendered him to whom 
it was due ; for, by averting intervention, he saved 
the day. The single inexplicable, ineradicable 
blemish upon the record is contained in that in- 
conceivable memorandum of “ Notes” handed 
by Secretary Seward to President Lincoln on 
April 1, 1861, and the dispatches numbered four 
and ten subsequently prepared for Mr. Adams 
in obvious pursuance of the mad and indefen- 
sible policy therein outlined. 

The day following the receipt of this modified 
dispatch Mr. Adams sought an interview with 
Lord John. In it he “tried to act up to [his] 
instructions at the same time that [he] softened 
as well as [he] could the sharp edges.” For- 
tunately for him, in a previous interview with 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 197 


Lord John, of which he had already sent a re- 
port to Washington, he had pressed the foreign 
secretary quite as far and as hard as circum- 
stances justified. “In truth,” he had written, 
“if I were persuaded that Her Majesty’s gov- 
ernment were really animated by a desire to 
favor the rebellion, I should demand a categori- 
eal answer; but thus far I see rather division of 
Opinion, consequent upon the pressure of the 
commercial classes.” So he contented himself 
with the highly significant remark to Lord John, 
that, if Great Britain entertained any design, 
more or less marked, to extend the struggle then 
going on in America, “ I was bound to acknow- 
ledge in all frankness that, in that contingency, 
I had nothing further left to do in Great Britain. 
I said this with regret, as my own feelings had 
been and were of the most friendly character.” 
Secretary Seward seems to have been greatly 
mollified when advised of this intimation; but 
now Mr. Adams had again to approach a deli- 
cate subject. Accordingly he proceeded to in- 
timate “in all frankness” that any further pro- 
traction of relations, “ unofficial” though they 
might be, with the ‘“ pseudo -commissioners ” 
from the Confederate States ‘‘ could scarcely fail 
to be viewed by us as hostile in spirit, and to 
require some corresponding action accordingly.” 
To this diplomatically expressed demand, Lord 


198 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


John, after reviewing the course pursued by 
Great Britain in similar cases, concluded by say- 
ing that ‘he had seen the gentlemen once some 
time ago, and once more some time since; he 
had no expectation of seeing them any more.” 
Directness in dealing was not thrown away on 
Lord John Russell. Mr. Adams now scored 
his first success; Messrs. Yancey, Rost, and 
Mann were not again received at the foreign 
office. On their side, the commissioners reported 
to their government that “ the relations between 
Mr. Adams and the British cabinet are not en- 
tirely amicable and satisfactory to either, and, 
both in his diplomatic and social relations, Mr. 
Adams is held a blunderer.” Mrs. Jefferson 
Davis took later a different and more practical 
view of the matter, remarking in her life of 
her husband: ‘The astute and watchful ambas- 
sador from the United States had thus far fore- 
stalled every effort, and our commissioners were 
refused interviews with Her Majesty’s minister.” 
Mr. Yancey, thinking the concession of Lord 
John to Mr. Adams’s demand was in violation of 
the rule of neutrality, to which the British gov- 
ernment had pledged itself, urged his brother 
commissioners to respond to Lord John’s notice 
of suspension of interviews by a firm though 
moderate protest. But Messrs. Rost and Mann 
objecting to this course, the matter was referred 


SEWARD’S FOREIGN WAR PANACEA 199 


to the Richmond government; nor was it again 
heard of. The commissioners were presently 
(September 23d) superseded in their functions, 
so far as Great Britain was concerned, by the 
appointment of James M. Mason as the Con 
federate representative in that country. 


CHAPTER XI 
THE TREATY OF PARIS 


Tue so-called Declaration of Paris was an 
outcome of the Crimean war. Up to the time 
of that struggle the semi-barbarous rules of in- 
ternational law which, during the Napoleonic 
period, had been ruthlessly enforced by all bel- 
ligerents, were still recognized, though in abey- 
ance. As an historical fact, it was undeniable 
that, on the high seas, piracy was the natural 
condition of man; and, when the artificial state 
of peace ceased, into that condition nations re- 
lapsed. To ameliorate this, Great Britain and 
France, on the outbreak of the war with Russia, 
agreed to respect neutral commerce, whether 
under their own flags or that of Russia; and, 
at the close of the war, the Congress of Paris 
adopted, in April, 1856, a Declaration, embra- 
cing four heads : — 

1. Privateering is and remains abolished. 

2. The neutral flag covers enemy’s goods, 
with the exception of contraband of war. 

3. Neutral goods, with the exception of con- 
traband of war, are not liable to capture under 
enemy’s flag. 


THE TREATY OF PARIS 201 


4, Blockades in order to be binding must be 
effective; that is to say, maintained by forces 
sufficient really to prevent access to the coast of 
the enemy. 

Great Britain, France, Prussia, Russia, Aus- 
tria, and Turkey adopted this mutual agree- 
ment, and pledged themselves to make it known 
to states not represented in the congress, and 
invite their accession to it, on two conditions : — 
(1) That the Declaration should be accepted as 
a whole, or not at all; and (2) That the states 
acceding should enter into no subsequent ar- 
rangement on maritime law in time of war 
without stipulating for a strict observance of 
the four points. On these conditions every mar- 
itime power was to be invited to accede, and had 
the right to become a party to the agreement. 
Accordingly nearly all the states of Europe and 
South America in course of time notified their 
accession, and became, equally with the original 
members, entitled to all the benefits and subject 
to the obligations of the compact. 

The government of the United States was 
also invited to accede, and like the other powers 
had the right so to do by simple notification. 
Secretary Marcy informed the French govern- 
ment, July 28, 1856, that the President could 
not abandon the right to use privateers, unless 
he could secure the exemption of all private 


202 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


property, not contraband, from capture at sea; 
but with that amendment the United States 
would accede to the Declaration. 

In other words, in addition to the points agreed 
on at Paris, the United States contended for 
the establishment of the same principle on the 
sea that obtained on land, to wit : — the exemp- 
tion from capture of all private property, not 
contraband of war, including ships. The last 
great vestige of the earlier times of normal 
piracy was, by general consent, to be relegated 
to the past. With the exception of Great Brit- 
ain, the more considerable European maritime 
powers made no objection to the Marcy amend- 
ment. Great Britain was understood to oppose 
it, for obvious reasons connected with her past 
history and present naval preponderance. 

President Buchanan’s was essentially an 
“Ostend manifesto,” or filibuster, administra- 
tion. When Lincoln succeeded Buchanan the 
aspect of affairs from the United States point of 
view had undergone a dramatic change. Threat- 
ened with Confederate letters of marque, the 
government also found itself engaged in, and 
responsible for, a blockade of the first magni- 
tude. Under such circumstances, it was plainly 
impossible to forecast all the contingencies which 
might arise, and it was altogether dubious what 
policy might prove to be the more expedient; 


THE TREATY OF PARIS 203 


but, on the whole, it seemed to the adminis- 
tration wisest to endeavor to conciliate Europe. 
A circular dispatch from the Department of 
State was sent out accordingly, bearing date 
April 24th. By it the ministers of the United 
States were formally instructed to ascertain the 
disposition of the various governments to which 
they were accredited; and, if they found such 
governments favorably disposed, to enter into 
a convention, under the terms of which the 
United States became a party to the Paris 
compact. This dispatch, it will be observed, 
was prepared and sent out after the fall of Sum- 
ter, and the consequent proclamation of Lincoln 
and letter-of-marque notification of Jefferson 
Davis. In view of the widely spread suspicions 
entertained respecting the methods of the Amer- 
ican secretary of state, the move was one calcu- 
lated to excite a not altogether unnatural dis- 
trust in the minds of diplomats and European 
statesmen; a distrust which would not have 
been allayed had they been acquainted with the 
tenor of the memorandum of “ Notes for the 
President’s Consideration”? submitted to Mr. 
Lincoln by that secretary some three weeks pre- 
vious. 

Mr. Adams next found himself engaged in a 
long, and what he at the time accurately de- 
scribed asa “ singular,” negotiation on this sub- 


204. CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ject, into the details of which it is impossible 
here to enter. It is sufficient to say that it 
was marked on the part of the British govern- 
ment by evasions, procrastinations, and vacil- 
lations by no means creditable. In fact, as the 
interviews followed each other, “the singular 
divergencies of recollections as to facts’’ became 
so pronounced, that Mr. Adams recorded a frank 
admission that “the whole conduct of the admin- 
istration here is inexplicable ;” and, at last, re- 
lieved himself by declaring (to himself) that it 
was ‘difficult to suppress indignation at the 
miserable shuffling practiced throughout.” In 
his opinion at the time all this was attributable 
to the secret machinations of the Premier: but 
the real explanation was that Lord John Rus- 
sell, distrustful of the good faith and ulterior 
purposes of the Washington government, was 
afraid of being unwarily entrapped into a posi- 
tion which would in some way compromise him 
with respect to those responsible for depreda- 
tions under Confederate letters of marque. The 
British government, though it had conferred 
rights of belligerency on the Confederacy, might 
be called on to treat as pirates those sailing 
under the Confederate colors. Again, like all 
European diplomats, Lord John, or Earl Rus- 
sell, as he now became, looked upon the early 
recognition of the Confederacy as inevitable. 


THE TREATY OF PARIS 205 


But, as events developed while the negotiation 
went on, recognition might well involve an 
armed intervention. In case of hostilities, the 
interests of Great Britain, as respects the four 
principles of the Treaty of Paris, were not alto- 
gether clear. The mercantile marine of the 
United States had then grown rapidly. <A free 
hand towards it might be a good thing. 

Whatever may have been Mr. Seward’s ob- 
jects in originally proposing the adhesion of the 
United States to the Paris compact at that par- 
ticular juncture, there can be little doubt that, as 
the negotiation progressed, he became sincerely 
interested in it. As to Mr. Adams, after ma- 
ture deliberation, he made up his mind, much to 
the discomposure of some of the representatives 
of the United States at other courts, that the 
articles of the Declaration were “ sound in prin- 
ciple, and that the party coming in on the basis 
of liberal ideas [like the new party in Amer- 
ica] would commit itself very badly if it should 
turn its back on them.” He proceeded accord- 
ingly. 

At first the British and French secretaries 
endeavored to have the negotiation transferred 
to Washington, there to be carried on by the 
representatives of the two governments, acting 
in unison. This dangerous move Mr. Seward 
most adroitly checked ; and the matter was sent 


206 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


back to Europe. Mr. Adams then took it up 
with Earl Russell ; but it soon became apparent 
that the latter was more intent on the course of 
events in America than on the business in hand. 
Hence resulted strange misunderstandings and 
‘“‘divergencies of recollection”; but little pro- 
gress towards a result. The real trouble was at 
Washington, whence Lord Lyons was writing to 
Earl Russell cautioning him against permitting 
anything to be done without an explicit under- 
standing as to “the effect which [the acceptance 
of the Declaration by the American government 
was | intended by them to have with regard to 
the seceded States.”” Puzzled, and a little irri- 
tated, by Earl Russell’s parleys and procrasti- 
nations, Mr. Adams at last determined to force 
an issue; so, acting under instructions from 
Washington, he notified Earl Russell of the 
wish of the United States to accede to the prin- 
ciples of the Treaty of Paris in their entirety, 
“pure and simple.” This, under the terms of 
the Treaty entitling other countries to become 
parties to it merely on notice, would have ended 
the matter in the case of any country other than 
the United States ; but, in the case of the United 
States, the compact, being with foreign powers, 
was in the nature of a treaty, and as such had 
to be submitted to the Senate for approval. To 
meet this constitutional difficulty, the notice 


THE TREATY OF PARIS 207 


of adhesion had to take the form of a conven- 
tion; and a form of such a convention Mr. 
Adams submitted. Had Earl Russell been a 
statesman of the first class, as quick-witted as he 
was far-seeing, he would now, overlooking all im- 
mediate and petty considerations, have seized the 
opportunity, and committed the United States, 
once for all, to the new principles of belligerency. 
Immediate complications might have grown out 
of the American civil war, and those he could 
in some way have met as they presented them- 
selves; but, so far as the larger and more re- 
mote interests of Great Britain were concerned, 
the case was clear, and he had the game in his 
hands. The adhesion of the United States to the 
new principles would be a great point gained. 
Earl Russell was not equal to the occasion. 
Instead of meeting Mr. Adams squarely, he 
now had recourse to methods crab-like in the 
extreme. He asked for a clause to be inserted 
in the convention, expressly providing that it 
should have no bearing “ direct or indirect on 
the internal difficulties now prevailing in the 
United States.” Mr. Adams, of course, then 
closed the negotiation; and, much to the sub- 
sequent embarrassment of Great Britain on sev- 
eral occasions, the United States has never yet 
become a party to the Declaration of Paris. 
That Mr. Adams erred at the time in attribu- 


208 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ting the course of Earl Russell to the secret 
promptings of Lord Palmerston, has already 
been intimated. It was unquestionably due to 
the misgivings of Lord Lyons, prompted by his 
confirmed distrust of Mr. Seward; and to an 
inability on the part of the British foreign sec- 
retary himself to understand the real significance 
of events then taking place in America. 

Thus ended the first of the long succession of 
diplomatic struggles between Lord Russell and 
Mr. Adams. In itself it resulted in nothing ; 
but not for that was it unfruitful of conse- 
quences. The British minister could not but 
have felt, as he emerged from it, that he had 
been driven into an equivocal position. His 
language was on this point silently significant. 
The directness of his adversary, moreover, ap- 
pealed to him ; for in Parliament he had been 
through a lifetime accustomed to give and re- 
ceive blows, and he liked a straightforward, hard- 
hitting opponent. When Mr. Adams reached 
London Lord John, so far as the Foreign 
Office was concerned, had fixed his position 
as the representative of half an empire, and he 
had proposed to hold Mr. Adams in the posi- 
tion thus in advance assigned to him. He was 
fast finding the task more difficult than he had 
supposed it would be. So he ever grew more 
cautious, and more wary of his opponent. Mean- 


THE TREATY OF PARIS 209 


while Mr. Adams, though disappointed and 
puzzled, had kept his temper and carried his 
point ; but, so far as the assumed friendliness 
of Earl Russell to the United States was con- 
cerned, the scales had fallen from his eyes. His 
faith in the straightforwardness of any portion 
of the Palmerston-Russell ministry was gone. 
He had only himself, and the shifting fortunes 
of war, to rely on in future; and, so far as the 
latter were concerned, the recent experiences at 
Bull Run, though fresh in memory, were the re- 
verse of assuring. The autumn of 1861 was 
not a cheerful period in the rooms of the Amer- 
ican legation at London. 


CHAPTER XII 
THE TRENT AFFAIR 


Durine the month of November especially 
events of importance followed one close upon 
another. The plot thickened fast. On the 8th 
of that month the Confederate defenses at Port 
Royal, in South Carolina, were captured by a 
combined naval and military expedition sent out 
for that purpose; and on the 19th the Con- 
federate steamer Nashville gave notice to the 
world, dramatically enough, that the flag of the 
Confederacy was on the ocean, by capturing in 
the British Channel the American merchant ves- 
sel Harvey Birch, and burning her within sight 
of the English and French shores. Greatly an- 
noyed by this last incident, Mr. Adams in his 
diary admitted that, in his exultation over the 
news from Port Royal, very distinct “ trem- 
blings”’ were perceptible as to what tidings 
of another nature might be in store for him. 
His apprehensions, though undefined, were pro- 
phetic. On the very day upon which General 
Sherman was occupying the hastily abandoned 
works at Hilton Head, Captain Wilkes, in com- 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 211 


mand of the United States steam sloop-of-war 
San Jacinto, some five hundred miles to the 
south and west, was bringing-to the British steam- 
packet Trent, then on the high seas, bound from 
Havana, a Spanish harbor, to the island of St. 
Thomas. He then forcibly took from her Messrs. 
Mason and Slidell, two accredited Confederate 
emissaries, — passengers on their way from one 
foreign port to another. It is curious to look 
back on this performance from the standpoint of 
forty years later; for, though the over zealous 
naval officer is proverbially the international 
enfant terrible, it is questionable whether in 
modern times any naval officer has ever been 
guilty of a more ill-considered and thoroughly 
unjustifiable proceeding. Yet, at the moment, 
it made of Captain Wilkes a hero and popular 
idol throughout the loyal States of the Union; 
while for a brief space of time, without possi- 
bility of any advantage to be derived therefrom, 
it caused the issue of the struggle for national 
existence to tremble on the verge of irre- 
trievable disaster. Already in a most excitable 
mood, the occurrence fairly swept the Ameri- 
ean people off their feet. The entire commu- 
nity was dissolved into a declaiming, hysterical 
mob, wholly forgetful of the national conten- 
tions through seventy years; a mob to which 
high officials, grave magistrates, and counsel 





212 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


who professed to be learned in the law, vied 
with each other in ill-considered utterances, as 
if eager to get themselves into positions from 
which extrication would be at best extremely 
difficult. They certainly accomplished that re- 
sult with marked success. 

That the high-handed proceeding of Captain 
Wilkes was altogether unjustifiable, no Ameri- 
ean will now deny. That it was in manifest vio- 
lation of the principles of international law for 
which the United States had from the beginning 
stoutly contended, was admitted at the time. 
That, after 1815, the United States, the case 
being reversed, would before the Trent affair, 
at the moment of it, or at any time since, have 
submitted to similar treatment, no one would 
even suggest. But the really singular feature 
of the situation is the utter absence of common 
sense and business judgment apparent in the 
national estimate at the time of any advantage 
to be gained through Captain Wilkes’s act, as 
offset by the risks thereby incurred. Messrs. 
Mason and Slidell, as the event afterwards 
showed, were not magicians, or in any way 
more potential for harm than Messrs. Yancey, 
Rost, and Mann, already for months at work 
in Europe. Yet at the moment throughout the 
loyal States it was by every one assumed as in- 
disputable that some great advantage had been 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 213 


secured for the cause of the Union, — some awful 
peril averted, — when a certain dull-witted Vir- 
ginian and a certain acute, intriguing Louisian- 
ian were prevented from getting across the 
Atlantic. So far as any increased danger, likely 
to result from their presence in London or Paris, 
was involved, they might perfectly well, as was 
subsequently seen, have been given their pass- 
ports through New York, and contemptuously 
had their passages on a Cunarder paid to Liver- 
pool. Nor, curiously enough, was this hallu- 
cination over the importance of two insignificant 
individuals confined to those who secured forci- 
ble possession of their persons. They absolutely 
shared it themselves. They were on their way 
across the Atlantic commissioned to embroil the 
United States with the two great maritime pow- 
ers of Europe, if they could; and now, by an 
almost miraculous interposition due to luck and 
indiscretion combined, the object of their mis- 
sion was, at its very threshold, being accom- 
plished through them to an extent they could 
in their wildest imaginings never have ventured 
to hope. James M. Mason was a coarse, unin- 
telligent man, and that his sodden brain should 
not instantly have taken in the significance of 
what was going on is perhaps no occasion for 
surprise. Not so John Slidell. His head was 
clear ; his mind alert and logical. Greatly ad- 


214 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


dicted to games of chance, he was quick to catch 
the bearing of men’s thoughts and acts. It is 
hard to believe that his heart at least did not 
swell with secret exultation when, forced over 
the side of the Trent, he felt that his antagonist 
was playing his hand for him as he never could 
have played it himself. Yet the evidence is all 
the other way. Even Slidell seems to have 
labored under the well-nigh inconceivable men- 
tal delusion that he could be of greater service 
to the Confederacy in Paris than within the 
walls of Fort Warren. At the time the per- 
formance just failed of being terribly tragic ; 
looked at now, it had in it many elements of 
the opera bouffe. But, for some weeks subse- 
quent to the arrival of the news of the seizure, 
these latter elements were not conspicuously 
apparent from the point of view of the United 
States Legation in London. 

Up to this time, though Mr. Adams studi- 
ously ignored the fact, his treatment in Eng- 
land had been the reverse of cordial. Socially, 
he had been recognized, so to speak; and no- 
thing more. The sympathies of the aristocracy 
were distinctly on the side of the slaveocracy of 
the South, as against the democracy of the 
North; and this the American minister had 
been caused to feel with a distinctness almost 
peculiar to London, where the shades and phases 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 215 


of social coldness and incivility have lorg since 
been perfected into a science. Fortunately, Mr. 
Adams, by nature and bearing, was in this re- 
spect exactly the man the occasion called for. 
When the Englishman was cold and reserved, 
Mr. Adams was a little colder and a little more 
reserved than the Englishman. He thus played 
well the game to which he found himself called, 
for the very good reason that the game was 
natural to him. ; 

The English country season was now come; 
and, under ordinary circumstances, or at a later 
period in Mr. Adams’s own residence there, he 
would have been overwhelmed with invitations 
to the great houses: but in the autumn of 1861 
such was far from being the case. A few of- 
ficials bethought themselves of the American 
minister and Mrs. Adams; but, as a rule, their 
company was not desired, for their presence was 
obviously a restraint on the freedom of conver- 
sation, then largely made up of ill-natured and 
hostile, when not contemptuous, references to 
America and all things American. Among 
those whose social standing in London was un- 
questioned, Mr. Richard Monckton Milnes, two 
years later created Lord Houghton, was one of 
the very few whose sympathies were throughout 
strongly enlisted in favor of the United States ; 
and he, from the beginning, showed a disposi- 


216 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


tion to be civil. He had accordingly invited 
Mr. and Mrs. Adams to Frystone, the Milnes 
country seat in Nottinghamshire. Thither, little 
suspecting what tidings the St. Thomas steam- 
packet, then fast nearing the English coast, was 
to precipitate upon them, Mr. and Mrs. Adams 
betook themselves, leaving London on Monday, 
November 25th. 

As he left the legation Mr. Adams noted that, 
almost for the first time since he had been in 
England, the mail from America brought only 
agreeable news. The party at Frystone Hall 
was large and pleasant; and the presence of 
William E. Forster gave evidence of care in its 
selection, in view of the all absorbing topics of 
the day. On Wednesday, the 27th, an excursion 
had been arranged to visit the ruins of Pomfret 
Castle, famous in English annals as the scene 
of the murder of Richard II. It was a sodden, 
dull day of the English November type; and 
just as the party was entering the ruins, to 
quote Mr. Adams, “a telegraphic dispatch was 
put into my hands from [the legation] an- 
nouncing the startling news that Messrs. Slidell 
and Mason had been taken by force out of a 
British steamer in the West Indies by one of 
our steam frigates. The consequences rose up 
very vividly in my mind, and prevented me from 
thinking much of historical associations.” Re- 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 217 


ferring to the incident, Mr. Forster the next 
day wrote to his wife: “Just as we got into 
Pomfret Castle, Adams said, in his cool, quiet 
way, ‘I have got stirring news, which indeed 
was atelegram with the story.” Mr. Milnes, as 
well as Mr. Forster, was a good deal impressed 
by his guest’s composure under such very trying 
circumstances. The moment he knew the nature 
of the information contained in the telegram, he 
naturally at once arranged for Mr. Adams’s re- 
turn to London. ‘ With characteristic cool- 
ness,’ as Mr. Reid, Lord Houghton’s biogra- 
pher, says, “the American minister remained 
quietly at Frystone,” intimating that London 
was about the last place to which, under exist- 
ing conditions, he felt any inclination to go. 

He was entirely right. A more impulsive, 
less deliberate man would probably have felt 
either a desire or an obligation to get to his 
post. In reality, both he and the interests he 
had in charge were the better for his absence 
from it. Most fortunately there was then no 
Atlantic cable. Not for five years yet did one 
exist. Had there been such a means of instan- 
taneous communication in 1861, the Trent af- 
fair could hardly have failed to involve the two 
nations in war. As it was, it required from 
sixteen to twenty days to send a message from 
London to Washington and receive a reply to 


218 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


it. Sixteen days as a minimum afford a good 
deal of time in which a popular craze or senti- 
mental effervescence may subside; and when 
those sixteen days are doubled, or trebled, by 
the necessity of yet further correspondence, 
there is a very good chance that reason may re- 
sume its sway. It proved so now. 

When he received his first telegram at Pom- 
fret Castle, Mr. Adams knew only that he was 
wholly without information or instructions from 
Washington for his guidance. The news of the 
seizure was brought to England by the La Plata. 
It reached London on November 27th, eighteen 
days after the event. The San Jacinto, with 
Messrs. Mason and Slidell on board, made For- 
tress Monroe on the 15th. The seizure, there- 
fore, was known in America twelve days before 
it was known in England. Meanwhile Mr. 
Adams was in a state of complete ignorance in 
regard to how it had come about. The natural 
inference was that Captain Wilkes had acted 
under instructions. To an ordinary, well-regu- 
lated intellect, it was hardly conceivable then, 
as it would not be now, that a naval officer, in 
command of a ship-of-war on its way home from 
a distant station, should, out of his own head 
and acting on newspaper information, venture 
on such a performance. As Mr. Adams at this 
_time wrote referring to other experiences he was 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 219 


then undergoing: — ‘These naval officers are 
bad, when too sluggish, like Marchand; and 
worse, when too active, like Wilkes.” But if 
the Wilkes seizure had been directed from 
Washington, the first and natural conclusion 
of Mr. Adams would be that it was in further- 
ance of the aggressive policy outlined in Secre- 
tary Seward’s dispatches of April 27th and May 
21st, and that a foreign war was to be pro- 
voked. Under such circumstances, bewildered 
as he could not but be at the darkness in which 
he had been left, the chief thing for a diplomatic 
agent to guard against was any hasty action or 
ill-considered utterance. He could safely infer 
nothing, assume nothing, imagine nothing. He 
must possess his soul in patience, be enigmati- 
cal—and wait! The situation, altogether in- 
explicable, might be trying in the mean while, 
but the Washington oracle must at last speak. 
In the mean time, silence. 

It so chanced, however, that the very exigency 
thus unexpectedly arisen had already been dis- 
cussed as a possibility by Mr. Adams with no 
less a person than the Prime Minister himself. 
The incident was curious and interesting ; be- 
sides being characteristic of Lord Palmerston, 
it throws a not unfavorable light on his attitude 
at that time towards the American struggle. He 
plainly did not want to have Great Britain in- 


220 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


volved in it through any untoward accident. 
So far from seeking a pretext for quarrel, he 
was anxious to avoid one. Up to this time, 
there had been no personal intercourse between 
Mr. Adams and the Premier. They had both 
been present, and both had spoken, at the Lord 
Mayor’s dinner on the 9th of November; and 
Mr. Adams on that occasion had evidently been 
somewhat relieved at the tenor of the Prime 
Minister’s remarks. They were, he wrote, char- 
acterized by “his customary shrewdness. He 
touched gently on our difficulties, and at the 
same time gave it to be clearly understood that 
there was to be no interference for the sake 
of cotton.” Three days later, on the 12th of 
November, Mr. Adams was a good deal sur- 
prised by receiving “a familiar note” from 
Lord Palmerston asking him to call at Cam- 
bridge House, in Piccadilly, the town residence 
of the latter, and see him at an hour named in 
the note. Mr. Adams could not imagine why 
he was thus summoned; but, of course, kept 
the appointment. ‘“ His reception,” he wrote, 
‘was very cordial and frank.” 

Lord Palmerston did not then fully explain 
his reasons for this unusual interview; in fact 
they were highly creditable to him. He was 
going out of his way to give the American min- 
ister an intimation of possible impending diffi- 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 221 


culty with a view to obviating it. It was then 
well known that Messrs. Mason and Slidell were 
on their way to Europe. They were at first 
supposed to be on the Nashville; but afterwards 
their arrival at Havana was announced, and 
it was then correctly assumed that they would 
sail on the Trent. It was further surmised 
that the government of the United States had 
issued orders for intercepting any vessel on 
which the envoys might take passage, and 
seizing them. Finally, the James Adger, a 
United States ship-of-war under command of 
Captain John B. Marchand, had recently ar- 
rived on the English coast, and was at South- 
ampton, the home port of the Nassau steam- 
packet line. The times were troubled; the 
circumstances suspicious. Earl Russell submit- 
ted the facts to the crown lawyers, and had 
been advised that, under British precedents and 
past contentions, a United States man-of-war 
falling in with a British mail-steamer would 
have the right to board her, open her mail-bags, 
examine their contents, and, if the steamer 
should prove liable to confiscation for carrying 
dispatches from the enemy, put a prize crew on 
board, and carry her to a port of the United 
States for adjudication. In that case the law 
officers thought the captor might, and in their 
opinion ought to, disembark the passengers on 


222 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the mail-steamer at some convenient port. But, 
they added, ‘she would have no right to remove 
Messrs. Mason and Slidell and carry them off as 
prisoners, leaving the ship to pursue her voy- 
age.” ! Obviously, if this was the law as deduced 
from British precedents, a very ugly question 
was impending, and Her Majesty’s government 
might find itself in an awkward position. It 
would require a great many precedents to make 
palatable the fact of an American man-of-war 
steaming out of Southampton and _ stopping, 
searching, and seizing a British mail-packet in 
the British Channel, and in sight of her home 
port. So, after reflecting over the situation, 
Lord Palmerston had concluded that a little 
friendly talk in time with the American min- 
ister might be a sensible way of preventing a 
trouble not less unnecessary than serious. Mr. 
Adams at once transmitted to Secretary Seward, 
in a dispatch marked “ confidential,” and never 
printed, a detailed account of that unofficial 
talk. While the essential and characteristic 
portions of it are here given in full, it is only 
proper to say that liberal allowance should be 
made in the case of some references to Captain 
Marchand, who, while in professional alertness 
not fully up to the ideals of Mr. Adams, was a 
gallant officer, and subsequently distinguished 


1 Walpole’s Life of Russell, ii. 856, 357. 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 223 


himself under Farragut in the battle of Mobile 
Bay. There is no reason to suppose that Lord 
Palmerston spoke by the letter in what he said 
of him, but he certainly spoke in genuine 
Palmerstonian fashion. Mr. Adams wrote as 
follows to Secretary Seward: “He [Palmer- 
ston] received me in his library all alone, and 
at once opened on the subject then evidently 
weighing on his mind. He said that informa- 
tion had come to him of the late arrival of a 
United States vessel of war, the James Adger. 
She had put into one or two places, and finally 
stopped at Southampton, where she had taken 
in coal and other supplies. But the day before, 
his Lordship had understood, the captain had 
got very drunk on brandy, after which he had 
dropped down to the mouth of the river as if 
about to sail on a cruise. The impression was 
that he had been directed to keep on the watch 
for the steamer expected to arrive Thursday 
from the West Indies, in order to take ort of 
it by force the gentlemen from the Southern 
States, Messrs. Mason and Slidell, who were 
presumed to be aboard. Now he was not going 
into the question of our right to do such an 
act. Perhaps we might be justified in it, as the 
steamer was not strictly a public vessel, or per- 
haps we might not. He would set the argument 
aside for those whose province it was to discuss 


224 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


it. All that he desired to observe was, that such 
a step would be highly inexpedient in every way 
he could view it. It would be regarded here 
very unpleasantly if the captain, after enjoying 
the hospitality of this country, filling his ship 
with coals and with other supplies, and filling his 
own stomach with brandy (and here he laughed 
in his characteristic way), should, within sight 
of the shore, commit an act which would be felt 
as offensive to the national flag. Neither could 
he see what was the compensating advantage to 
be gained by it. It surely would not be sup- 
posed that the addition of one or two more to the 
number of persons, who had already been some 
time in London on the same errand, would be 
likely to produce any change in the policy al- 
ready adopted. He did not believe that the 
government would vary its action on that ac- 
count, be they few or many. He could not 
therefore conceive of the necessity of resorting 
to such a measure as this, which, in the present 
state of opinion in England, could scarcely fail 
to occasion more prejudice than it would do 
good.” 

It is not necessary here to give the rest of 
this interesting but somewhat lengthy dispatch, 
covering as it did a half hour’s rapid and de- 
sultory talk. Mr. Adams explained the orders 
under which Captain Marchand was acting, and 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 225 


told his Lordship that the James Adger had 
come out looking for the Nashville, and was now 
watching the Gladiator, and not lying in wait 
for the Confederate emissaries or a British mail- 
steamer. As for the Gladiator, then being fitted 
out to run the blockade with a cargo of arms 
and munitions for the Confederacy, Mr. Adams 
frankly told Lord Palmerston that he “ had ad- 
vised Captain Marchand to keep on the track 
of her, and, the very first moment he could form 
a reasonable conviction of her intent to land 
anywhere in the United States, to snap her up 
at once.” He wholly disavowed, however, in 
the case of the James Adger, the existence of 
any orders from his government of the nature 
of those taken for granted by Lord Palmerston. 
This conversation took place on the 15th of 
November, and the very thing Lord Palmer- 
ston wished to prevent happening off the harbor 
of Southampton actually had happened six days 
before in the Old Bahama channel. It was a 
mere question of distance: apprehended within 
forty miles of Southampton, it happened within 
four thousand. In the absence of definite in- 
formation to the contrary, the inference was 
natural, as well as almost irresistible, that the 
captain of the San Jacinto had acted in pursu- 
ance of orders such as Lord Palmerston had as- 
sumed to exist in the case of the James Adger, 


226 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 
but which Mr. Adams had denied. This was 


the essential point, and the situation was greatly 
complicated. Captain Wilkes had done just 
what Mr. Adams had assured the Prime Minis- 
ter Captain Marchand was not instructed to do, 
and had no idea of doing. The thing did not 
have an honest aspect. 

Mr. Adams returned to London with the re- 
collection of this unfortunate talk very fresh in 
his mind. It had taken place only a fortnight 
before. Getting back on the evening -of the 
28th, the city was in a state of much excite- 
ment, while in the face and bearing of Lord 
Russell, from whom he found a summons 
awaiting him, he noticed “a shade more of 
gravity, but no ill will.” Mr. Adams could 
only say to the foreign secretary that he was 
wholly unadvised both as to the occurrence and 
the grounds of the action of Captain Wilkes. 
Nor did Mr. Seward seem in haste to enlighten 
him ; for ten days later he wrote: ‘The dis- 
patches came, but not an allusion to the case of 
the Trent. Mr. Seward’s ways are not those 
of diplomacy. Here have I been nearly three 
weeks without positively knowing whether the 
act of the officer was directed by the govern- 
ment or not. My private letters made me anx- 
ious. Strange to relate, the uniform tone is to 
sustain the action of Captain Wilkes.” On the 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 227 


14th, in the midst of the turmoil, Prince Al- 
bert died ; a lamentable occurrence, but for the 
moment it served as a fortunate distraction. 
Three days later, on the 17th of December, in 
the midst of the mourning, a dispatch at last 
came bearing indirectly on the momentous issue. 
Dated on the 30th of November, fifteen days 
after the San Jacinto had reached Fortress 
Monroe, it related mainly to other subjects; 
but, at its close, the secretary spoke of the 
seizure of Messrs. Mason and Slidell, referring 
to it as a “ new incident,’ which was “ to be met 
and disposed of by the two governments, if pos- 
sible” in a spirit of mutual forbearance. But 
it was further significantly intimated that ‘ Cap- 
tain Wilkes having acted without any instruc- 
tions from the government, the subject is free 
from the embarrassment which might have re- 
sulted if the act had been specially directed by 
us. I trust,’ the secretary then added, “ that 
the British government will consider the subject 
in a friendly temper, and it may expect the best 
disposition on the part of this government.” 
Two days later, on the 19th, Mr. Adams went 
by appointment to the Foreign Office and had a 
long interview with Earl Russell, in the course 
of which, after repeating the tenor of the dis- 
patch, he read it in full, and the two discussed 
its bearing in a friendly spirit, reaching the con- 


228 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


clusion that an adjustment could be arrived at 
with no great difficulty. The tone of the pa- 
pers, especially the “‘ Post,” supposed to be the 
personal organ of Lord Palmerston, was, how- 
ever, then so bitter and uncompromising that 
Mr. Adams was especially anxious to ascertain 
whether in any influential quarters war was 
intended. He, therefore, pressed his inquiries 
closely as to the probable action of the gov- 
ernment in case, the demands of Great Britain 
not being complied with, Lord Lyons broke off 
diplomatic relations at Washington. Lord Rus- 
sell, in reply, intimated that in such event hos- 
tilities would not necessarily at once ensue. 

One passage in this interview afforded, how- 
ever, good evidence of the friendly relations 
which, notwithstanding the unsatisfactory result 
of the negotiation over the Declaration of Paris, 
had now come to exist between the minister and 
the foreign secretary. Referring, as the talk 
went on, to the precedents in cases similar to 
that of the Trent, Mr. Adams observed that 
“the French government had always been very 
consistent in maintenance of the rights of neu- 
trals; but,” in quoting Mr. Adams’s language, 
Lord Russell went on to say, “he added that 
he could not pay our government the same com- 
pliment.”’ Meanwhile, in his turn, Mr. Adams 
reports that, when certain English precedents 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 229 


were cited, Lord Russell quietly observed that 
*“‘there were many things said and done by them 
[the English] fifty or sixty years ago, which he 
might not undertake to enter into the defense 
of now.” All which things, as Mr. Adams re- 
marked in reporting the conversation, ‘* were 
said pleasantly on both sides.” Finally, sum- 
ming up the grand result of the interview, Mr. 
Adams wrote, ‘‘On the whole I inferred that 
his Lordship did not desire war; but that he 
was likely to be pushed over the precipice by 
his desire to walk too close to the edge. We 
talked of the merits of the question very calmly. 
Finally I took my leave; at the door he said 
that, if all matters were left between us, he 
had no doubt we should soon agree; to which 
I expressed my assent.” 

Strange as it now seems, three entire weeks 
were yet to elapse before the tension came to an 
end, and the surrender of the emissaries was 
announced. During those weeks nothing more 
was heard in London from the Washington 
oracle. Nothing, in fact, could very well be 
heard, inasmuch as, to the oracle itself, the 
policy the United States might in the end pur- 
sue was up to the last moment matter of the 
utmost uncertainty. Into the details of what 
then took place in President Lincoln’s Cabinet 
it is not necessary here to enter; but, so far as the 


230 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


legation in London was concerned, the outward 
indications did not favor a peaceful solution of 
the trouble. The course pursued by the English 
government at this time has since been criti- 
cised,! and it has been claimed that the tenor of 
the dispatch of November 30th and of the in- 
terview between Earl Russell and Mr. Adams 
was carefully concealed from the British public, 
lest the assurance of a willingness in Washing- 
ton to settle the question in a peaceable manner 
would destroy the warlike enthusiasm which 
then pervaded the British islands. Indeed the 
*“* Post,” on the 21st of December, published a 
formal contradiction, supposed everywhere to be 
inspired, of a rumor which at once got in circula- 
tion, of the conversation of December 19th. In 
view of the revelations since made of the debate 
then going on in the Cabinet at Washington 
this criticism can hardly be accepted as sound. 
It is now known that the course the United 
States was to pursue long trembled in the bal- 
ance. Members of the Cabinet, as of both 
Houses of Congress, had noisily committed 
themselves to a policy which, under the cireum- 
stances, could end only in war. Such had to be 
brought into line. That they would be brought 
into line, and no matter with what groans, pro- 


1Dana’s Wheaton, § 504, note 228 (p. 507). Harris’s The 
Trent Affair, 184, 135, 274-277; Rhodes, iii. 534. 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 231 


testations, and grimaces, eat their own scarcely 
uttered words, was to the last moment question- 
able ; and, until it was certain, Her Majesty’s 
government, from the British standpoint, had 
but one course to take. Those composing it, 
whatever individually or in private they may 
have intended or wished, must evince an inflex- 
ible determination, an unchangeable purpose. 
Secretary Seward, it is to be remembered, at 
this time commanded the confidence of no Euro- 
pean foreign secretary. It is wholly immaterial 
whether the distrust of him then so prevalent was 
or was not well founded; that it existed is indis- 
putable, and, in this connection, enough. He 
was deemed unreliable, — in a word, “ tricky.” 
The story of the Newcastle insult also was cur- 
rent, and was undenied; yet the Duke of New- 
castle was a member of the Palmerston-Russell 
ministry. Moreover, while Secretary Seward 
was penning his conciliatory dispatch of No- 
vember 30th, Dr. Russell was writing to the 
“Times: ” “In the present temper of the Amer- 
ican people, no concession can avert serious com- 
plications very long, or the surrender [by Great 
Britain] of all the boasted privileges of the Civis 
Romanus. .. . I believe the government will 
retain [Mason and Slidell] at all risks, because 
it dare not give them up, not being strong 
enough to do what is right in face of popular 


232 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


sentiment.” In the same journal, in its issue of 
December 10th, there was another letter from 
Dr. Russell, in which, referring to a rumor cur- 
rent in Washington when he wrote that Mason 
and Slidell would be given up, he went on to 
say: “If it be true, this government is broken 
up. There is so much violence of spirit among 
the lower orders of the people, and they are so 
ignorant of everything except their own politics 
and passions, so saturated with pride and vanity, 
that any honorable concession, even in this hour 
of extremity, would prove fatal to its authors.” 

Such were the most authentic advices from 
America, and, only five days before Mr. Adams 
read to Earl Russell the dispatch of November 
30th, the “Times” editorially referred to “a 
general persuasion that upon his ability to in- 
volve the United States in a war with England 
Mr. Seward has staked his official existence, and, 
whatever may be the consequences to America 
of a war with this country, to him it has become 
an article of the very first necessity.” As if to 
emphasize this “‘ persuasion,” and wholly to dis- 
credit the pacific assurances of the secretary, 
Congress met on the 2d of December, and the 
same steamer which brought Mr. Seward’s dis- 
patch brought news also of the official approval 
of Captain Wilkes’s act by the secretary of the 
navy, and the unanimous passage of a vote of 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 233 


thanks to him by the national House of Repre- 
sentatives. As the record is gone over now, the 
nation seems to have been demented. Unques- 
tionably it so impressed European observers. 
Mr. Thurlow Weed was then in London, and 
a carefully considered letter from him had ap- 
peared in the “ Times” of December 14th. Mr. 
Adams, to whom Mr. Weed submitted the let- 
ter before sending it, thought it “a little too 
smooth and deprecating,” and told Mr. Weed 
“it would conciliate no favor.” In it the writer 
tried to smooth over the Newcastle story, merely 
asserting that “by all Americans the badinage 
of Mr. Seward would have been readily under- 
stood ;” which, as an explanation, left much to 
be desired: but he further intimated that the 
Trent affair might best be disposed of through 
a protracted negotiation, entered into in “a 
neighborly spirit.” The inference was inevi- 
table that Mr. Weed reflected in this suggestion 
the purpose of Mr. Seward, and the latter thus 
had in view a long paper discussion when he 
expressed the hope that the British government 
would “ consider the subject in a friendly spirit.” 
However much Senator Sumner or even Presi- 
dent Lincoln might incline to it, the govern- 
ment and people of England did not propose to 
have that particular affair made the subject of 
a long paper controversy, resulting in an arbi- 


234 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


tration. There can be no possible question that, 
under similar circumstances, the American peo- 
ple would even now evince a similar disinclina- 
tion not less pronounced. 

Thus in London, between the 19th of Decem- 
ber, 1861, and the 8th of January, 1862, it was 
not clear what Secretary Seward had in mind 
when he wrote the dispatch of November 30th ; 
while grave doubts were not unfairly entertained 
as to whether he really desired to maintain the 
peace, or, if he did so desire, whether it was 
within his power to control the American situa- 
tion. Indeed, as matter of fact, when the secre- 
tary of state penned his “ confidential” dispatch 
he did not voice the sentiments of the Cabinet 
at that date, much less those of Congress, or 
the press, or the American people. Thoroughly 
to sober these, they needed to look the certainty 
of a foreign war full in the face. Under such 
circumstances, it seems somewhat hypercritical 
to hold to a strict ethical account those English 
statesmen who were responsible for great prac- 
tical results. As Earl Russell not unjustly at 
the time remarked to Lord Palmerston, “ the 
United States government are very dangerous 
people to run away from; ” and when peace is 
the end in view, that end is not always best 
secured by evincing an over-conciliatory spirit. 
Such is apt to be construed as a disposition to 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 235 


“run away,’ especially by an over-excited oppo- 
nent who happens to be thoroughly in the 
wrong. Certainly when thirty years later, dur- 
ing the administration of Benjamin Harrison, 
a not dissimilar situation arose between Chili 
and the United States, the latter evinced no 
disposition to allow doubts to exist as to the 
course it was intended in certain contingencies 
to pursue. Studied in the light of that sub- 
sequent occurrence the course taken and _ lan- 
guage used by the government of Great Britain 
in December, 1861, and January, 1862, stand 
amply justified. 

Meanwhile on December 3d, four days after 
his first interview with Earl Russell on the sub- 
ject of the Trent, Mr. Adams himself had writ- 
ten confidentially to Mr. Seward, setting forth 
the situation as he saw it, and in calm, cogent 
fashion pointed out the extreme undesirability 
of America now placing herself “in the posi- 
tion which has always heretofore earned for 
England the ill will of the other maritime na- 
tions of the globe, not excluding ourselves.” 
On December 21st this letter reached the State 
Department; but even then it was in time, for 
not until the 23d, two days later, was Earl Rus- 
sell’s leading dispatch of November 30th, de- 
manding the release of the Confederate commis- 
Sioners and a suitable apology, formally handed 


236 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


by Lord Lyons to Mr. Seward. It nowhere 
appears in how far, if at all, Mr. Adams’s letter 
affected the immensely momentous discussion 
carried on in the Cabinet room of the White 
House during Christmas Day and the day fol- 
lowing of this year. Mr. Seward’s latest bio- 
grapher speaks of the missive as “‘ warning and 
very impressive,” and describes Mr. Adams as 
being for Mr. Seward in that emergency “a 
tower of strength.” 

Meanwhile, in none of the discussions of the 
Trent affair, many and minute as they have been, 
is reference anywhere found to the “ confiden- 
tial” dispatch of Mr. Adams of November 15th, 
or the report therein given of his interview with 
Lord Palmerston of three days previous. Yet 
on that occasion Lord Palmerston obviously, so 
to speak, drew the American fire; and the de- 
tailed report of what he said had reached Wash- 
ington, and was lying on Secretary Seward’s 
table when he penned his dispatch of Novem- 
ber 30th. It could not but have exercised a 
most sobering influence, and not impossibly al- 
tered his whole tone. The contemptuous lan- 
guage of the British Premier regarding the two 
men who at the very time when he spoke had 
been seized, and about whom such a tremendous 
ado was now being made, and his very direct 
intimations that their presence in Europe would 
in no wise affect the course of affairs, must, 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 237 


nearly a month later, have furnished the presi- 
dential counselors more or less food for the 
saving second thought. In fact, it would seem 
to be quite impossible that Secretaries Chase and 
Welles could have listened to that statement of 
Lord Palmerston’s views, as good-natured as they 
were timely and shrewd, without very unpleasant 
secret misgivings. Theirs was the not unusual 
fate of the precipitate statesman; and a thor- 
oughly false position, never under the most 
favorable circumstances pleasant to contemplate, 
becomes especially unattractive when made sud- 
denly apparent by the words or actions of one’s 
opponent. 

Not uninfluenced probably from this cause, the 
secretary of state had also within the last three 
months otherwise undergone a decided change of 
heart and of mind. Having recovered his mental 
poise, he saw things clearly. No longer viewing 
them through a distorted medium of Union senti- 
ment in the South, Democracy, Nationality, and 
Americanism, instead of challenging a foreign 
war, he was earnestly bent on averting it. When 
Mr. Seward first reached this most fortunate 
realizing sense of the hard actualities of the sit- 
uation nowhere appears. The events of July 
probably had much to do with his change of 
heart. Confronted with them, he could not but 
have seen that the seaboard States, from Vir- 
ginia to Texas, were united as one man, and, 


238 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


deaf to all sentimental appeal, could be dealt 
with only by force. For this the blockade was 
indispensable ; and the blockade depended on 
the control of the ocean. As a maritime power, 
Great Britain was at that time irresistible; and 
on the issue raised Great Britain was unques- 
tionably right, excepting always her own bad 
precedents; and, in the light of strenuous past 
contentions, the United States was preposter- 
ously wrong. Could a United States naval of- 
ficer, cruising in the British Channel, stop the 
Dover and Calais mail packet to take from 
it Confederate emissaries? The proposition 
seemed to carry its own answer. Yet, as the 
“Times” in its issue of December 11th very 
clearly and correctly pointed out, this, and no- 
thing else, was claimed. However and when- 
ever sobered, the secretary of state now saw all 
this as it was, and acted accordingly, persuad- 
ing the President; and, on January 8th, Mr. 
Adams at last received a telegram “to the effect 
that Messrs. Mason and Slidell and suite had 
been surrendered. Soon after Mr. Weed came 
in from the city with confirmatory intelligence, 
and a later telegram put it beyond doubt. So,” 
he wrote, “ the danger of war is at present re- 
moved ; and [ am to remain in this purgatory a 
while longer.” He took the welcome result 
very calmly, merely remarking in his diary that 
the settlement left him “ with an impression of 


THE TRENT AFFAIR 239 


nothing to do.” But it had its after-clap; for 
three days later, he wrote : — “ The excitement 
of the times has given my situation so much 
prominence that I am a sort of mark for all 
classes to shoot at. The newspapers this morn- 
ing are rather lively. The ‘ Post’ insinuates 
that I suppressed Mr. Seward’s dispatch relating 
to the Trent case in order to go into the mar- 
ket under cover of Mr. Peabody and speculate 
in the funds. The ‘ News’ has a very sharp 
leader putting the ‘ Post’ in a very awkward 
position for denying, as if officially, that the dis- 
patch had ever been communicated. It is a sin- 
gular proceeding, and makes me doubt whether 
that paper is so much of an organ of Lord 
Palmerston after all.” Finally though the re- 
action from the last craze had now fairly set in 
and the London “ Times” astonished Messrs. 
Mason and Slidell, fully prepared to pose as in- 
ternational martyrs grateful for rescue, by say- 
ing on the day of their arrival: ‘“ We do sin- 
cerely hope that our countrymen will not give 
these fellows anything in the shape of an ova- 
tion,” — in spite of this, the continued optimis- 
tic tone of the secretary jarred upon the min- 
ister. “Our army,” he wrote, “must do the 
rest. I had a telegram from Mr. Seward full 
of promises of what is about to be done. The 
past future tense will not go down here; and 
he ought to know it.” 


CHAPTER XIII 
A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 


“*LorD PALMERSTON bounded like a boy at 
any cruelty or oppression. Many years later, 
during his second premiership, at the time when 
the Federal General Butler outraged public 
opinion by proclaiming at New Orleans that 
ladies who showed discontent either by their 
dress or demeanor would be treated like women 

i, of the town, he sent to the American minister an 
indignant letter of remonstrance so strong and 
outspoken that Mr. Adams refused to receive it, 
and ran off with it to the Foreign Office in the 
utmost consternation.” } 

With biographers, as with artists, the point 
of view has a great deal to do with the aspect 
of the matter or person under consideration. 
In writing the life of Lord Palmerston, Mr. 
Evelyn Ashley thus alluded in a passing way to 
an incident and correspondence, not known to 
many at the time it took place, and since only 
vaguely referred to by a few writers of diplo- 
matic reminiscences of that period. In 1862 

1 Ashley’s Life of Palmerston, ii. 105. 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 241 


the occurrence was significant of several things : 
—among others, of British wrong-headedness 
and official insolence; of the strong trend of 
social feeling in London during the American 
struggle over slavery; of the English disposi- 
tion to take liberties with those not in position 
to make their resentment immediately effective ; 
but, above all, of the utter inability of the Eu- 
ropean public men to understand American so- 
cial conditions, and their practical working. 
The episode in question occurred in June, 
1862. The long, depressing winter following 
the adjustment of the Trent affair had worn 
itself away, and the London season was now at 
its height; though over it, socially, the recent 
death of Prince Albert threw a deep gloom. 
Parliament was in session ; the war in America 
was the exciting topic of the day, whether in the 
club, on change, or at the dinner-table. From 
the outset of his English experience Mr. Adams 
had shared to the full in the American dis- 
trust of Lord Palmerston. This was largely 
due to the well-understood fact that the London 
“ Morning Post”’ more immediately reflected the 
views of the Prime Minister; and, throughout 
the war, that journal was noticeable for its bitter- 
ness towards the Washington government and 
the loyal cause. There was little in the way of 
disparagement that could be said, which the 


242 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


“Post” failed to say. Socially, and otherwise, 
Lord and Lady Palmerston had been rather 
particularly civil to Mr. and Mrs. Adams; and 
it has already been seen that, following the 
course of the ‘ Post” closely in connection with 
the Trent affair, Mr. Adams had noticed cer- 
tain slight indications which led him to “ doubt 
whether that paper [was] so much of an organ 
of Lord Palmerston, after all.” The American 
minister was beginning to incline more favor- 
ably towards the Premier, when suddenly the 
occurrence of the incident alluded to by Mr. 
Ashley prejudiced the former violently and per- 
manently. 

The spring had brought to Europe tidings of 
an almost unbroken series of Union successes, 
military and naval. The fall of Fort Donelson 
had followed hard upon the capture of Roanoke 
Island; and the splendidly dramatic contest at 
Hampton Roads between the Merrimac and the 
Monitor warned Europe of a complete revolu- 
tion in maritime warfare. ‘“ With prudence and 
energy for a few weeks” longer, it seemed to 
Mr. Adams “ by no means unreasonable to hope 
that we may crush the rebellion before midsum- 
mer.” The tone of the newspapers of pro- 
nounced Confederate leaning was despondent, 
and the more prominent and influential rebel 
sympathizers were fast becoming satisfied that 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 243 


the South would collapse unless soon sustained 
from without. The “ Post” was, if possible, 
more outspoken and bitter than ever. At last, 
on Sunday, May 11th, returning home from 
an afternoon walk in Kensington Gardens, Mr. 
Adams picked up from the hall table a telegram 
from Mr. Seward, forwarded from Queenstown, 
announcing the fall of New Orleans. ‘On go- 
ing upstairs,” he wrote, “I found Sir Charles 
Lyell talking with Mrs. Adams about the course 
of the London ‘ Times’ on American affairs, and 
the singular way in which its statements are al- 
ways contradicted by the event next announced. 
Its confidence last week as to the impossibility of 
accomplishing the capture of New Orleans and 
the Mississippi River might, for what he knew, 
be dissipated to-morrow. At this I smiled, and 
answered that I had news of the event in my 
hand. This seems to me the finishing stroke of 
the rebellion.” However this may have proved 
in the end, the event led immediately to a 
sharp collision between Lord Palmerston and 
Mr. Adams. 

General B. F. Butler’s memorable order No. 
28, declaring that the women of New Orleans 
‘“‘ who insult any soldiers are to be regarded and 
treated as common women plying their vocation,” 
was made public on May 15, 1862. An English- 
man’s idea of women of the town and the treat- 


244 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ment accorded them, and the ideas of an Ameri- 
can, differed greatly. As respects that class, the 
London of 1862 was, as nearly as a so-called 
civilized community could be, positively shame- 
less. No respectable woman of ordinarily attrac- 
tive aspect could venture alone in the streets. 
She was almost certain to be addressed; while 
men were invariably and openly solicited. In 
the United States, and especially in the cities 
of the South, it was in both respects altogether 
otherwise. In New Orleans, for instance, the 
deference shown to white women was well known 
and almost excessive. It was the custom of 
the country, — a custom so well understood 
that it had long and frequently excited the 
notice of travelers from Europe, and more 
than once been the subject of amused comment. 
The Southern women were, so to speak, accli- 
mated to it. Taking it as matter of course, 
they often assumed upon it. Especially was 
this the case under the excitement of the civil 
war; and Pollard, the Confederate historical 
writer, describes the state of things in this re- 
spect then existent in terms which, to a Euro- 
pean, would be inconceivable, as implying only 
one thing, and that thing a Saturnalia. ‘ The 
intermingling,’ he wrote, “of the best ladies 
with the soldiers was something curious, The 
usual routine of social life was abandoned, and ~ 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 245 


a universal interest in the war broke down the 
barriers of sex as well as of class. Even those 
ladies who were most exclusively reared, who 
had formerly bristled with punctilios of pro- 
priety, admitted the right of any soldier to ad- 
dress them, to offer them attentions, and to 
escort them in the street. The ceremony of an 
introduction was not required ; the uniform was 
sufficient as such.” 4 

Unfortunately, when, through the fate of «war, 
the Union soldier in his federal uniform a lit- 
tle later on took the place of the Confederate in 
those same streets, this female effusiveness as- 
sumed a quite different though not less demon- 
strative form. In the many accounts of a cer- 
tain famous interview between Queen Louisa of 
Prussia and Napoleon, in October, 1806, it has 
never been suggested that Her Majesty began by 
bearing herself towards the victor of Jena as if 
he were a Corsican dog whose mere presence was 
pollution ; nor does Marbot, or any other writer 
of recollections of that period, anywhere mention 
that, after Austerlitz, high-born Viennese dames 
took occasion to empty the slops out of chamber 
windows at the moment when uniformed mar- 
shals of France were passing on the pavement 
below. In Spain, also, during the earlier years 
of the century, as in India more recently, it was 

1 Life of Jefferson Davis, 133. 


246 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


not the custom for the women of captured cities 
to demean themselves in presence of a victori- 
ous British soldiery with ostentatious contempt. 
On the contrary, they generally sought a severe 
seclusion, preferring for that purpose churches 
and other holy places, the sanctity of which, 
according to high military authority, did not 
always afford them an adequate protection. 
With the “ladies” of the Confederacy it was 
altogether different. Mr. Ashley innocently 
suggests that they “showed discontent” by 
“dress” or “demeanor.” Had they confined 
themselves within those limits, at once narrow 
and unobjectionable, it is quite safe to say that 
the women of New Orleans would have had in- 
comparably less grounds for outery than, under 
similar circumstances, did the females of Bada- 
joz in 1812, or those of Delhi in 1857. As mat- 
ter of historical fact, however, availing them- 
selves of the habits of deference associated with 
their skirts, the demeanor of the white women 
of Southern cities occupied by the Union army 
towards those wearing the federal uniform was, 
in the early days of the war, simply both inde- 
cent and intolerable. Not content with merely 
avoiding any contact with their victors, osten- 
tatiously and as a contamination, they evinced 
their “spirit” and patriotism in ways not 
strictly indicative of refinement, or even what 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 247 


is usually accepted as civility of the commonest 
kind. In fact the “ ladies,” so called, indulged 
in grossly insulting speech, and even spat upon 
the blue-clad objects of their detestation. More 
than this, with an ingenuity truly feline, they 
took advantage of the military obsequies of 
certain of those stationed over them who had 
been murdered by guerillas, and trained their 
children to cast more than contumely at the 
coffins of the dead, while they themselves in 
the immediate neighborhood evinced a conspic- 
uous approval. This, as Butler truly remarked, 
“flesh and blood” could not long stand. 
Women of the town in New Orleans were 
mostly mulattoes, or half-breeds; and, when 
found practicing their calling in public, these 
were, under a municipal regulation, arrested by 
the police, and put with other criminals in the 
calaboose, or lock-up. This was the American, 
and altogether commendable, significance of 
General Butler’s famous order. Under it no 
woman was ever maltreated ; and, in less than 
twenty-four hours, it brought the “ladies” of 
New Orleans to a wholesome realizing sense of 
the situation. But in London this order was 
construed in an altogether different way, and in 
accordance with the quite unmentionable prac- 
tices then, and indeed still, to be witnessed in 
the parks and other public resorts of that city. 


248 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Altogether a delicate subject, it was one upon 
which the two communities spoke in different 
languages ; and, when it was under discussion, 
the English simply did not understand what 
Americans said or had in mind. Accordingly 
when Butler’s order No. 28, intelligible enough 
in America, was published in England, a storm 
of indignation swept through the press. No 
abuse of him who promulgated the order could 
be too strong; no denunciation of the order 
itself too quick or emphatic. Parliament was 
still in session, and apparently Lord Palmerston 
thought that, in this matter, it was advisable for 
him to make an early record. 

The reported details of this obnoxious order 
appeared in the London papers of June 10th 
and were severely commented upon. Return- 
ing from an afternoon walk the following day, 
Mr. Adams found a note which, after hastily 
reading, he threw across the table to his son, 
who was writing on its other side, at the same 
time exclaiming: ‘‘ What does this mean! Does 
Palmerston want a quarrel?” The note in 
question, marked “ confidential,” ran as follows : 


Brockst, 11 June, 1862. 
My peARr Sir, —I cannot refrain from taking the 
liberty of saying to you that it is difficult if not im- 
possible to express adequately the disgust which must 
be excited in the mind of every honorable man by 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 249 


the general order of General Butler given in the en- 
closed extract from yesterday’s “Times.” Even when 
a town is taken by assault it is the practice of the 
commander of the conquering army to protect to his 
utmost the inhabitants and especially the female part 
of them, and I will venture to say that no example 
can be found in the history of civilized nations, till 
the publication of this order, of a general guilty in 
cold blood of so infamous an act as deliberately to 
hand over the female inhabitants of a conquered city 
to the unbridled license of an unrestrained soldiery. 

If the Federal government chooses to be served by 
men capable of such revolting outrages, they must 
submit to abide by the deserved opinion which man- 
kind will form of their conduct. 

My dear Sir, Yrs faithfully, 


PALMERSTON. 
C. F. Apams, Esq. 


In this extraordinary letter Mr. Adams ap. 
prehended a latent significance. Like Napo- 
leon’s famous reception of the English ambas- 
sador, Lord Whitworth, in 1803, it might prove 
to be the initial step in a far-reaching policy 
already decided on. As Mr. Adams wrote the 
next day to Mr. Seward, it was in London then 
very generally “affirmed with more and more 
confidence, that the two governments are medi- 
tating some form of intervention in our struggle. 
The rumor now is that M. de Persigny has come 
from Paris exclusively for the sake of consult- 


250 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ing on that subject. In such a connection, this 
unprecedented act of the Prime Minister may 
not be without great significance. I have long 
thought him hostile at heart, and only checked 
by the difference of views in the Cabinet. It 
may be that he seeks this irregular method of 
precipitating us all into a misunderstanding. If 
so, I shall endeavor, whilst guarding the honor 
of the government as well as my own, not to 
give him any just ground of offense. It strikes 
me that he has by his precipitation already put 
himself in the wrong, and I hope to be able to 
keep him there.” 

That night Mr. Adams’s rest was troubled. 
During the evening he drafted a reply; and, 
after most careful consideration, next morning 
sent it. It was designed to force Lord Palmer- 
ston’s hand. If the latter’s note was written in 
a private capacity, it was a personal affront, and 
- to be resented as such; if as the head of Her 
Majesty’s government, it was a clear infringe- 
ment on the prerogatives of Earl Russell, the 
foreign secretary. In which category did Lord 
Palmerston propose to place himself? The re- 
ply ran as follows : — 


Lonpon, 12 June, 1862. 
Tue Riaut Hon. ViscounT PALMERSTON, ETC., ETC. 
My Lorp, —I have to acknowledge the reception 
of your note of yesterday, making certain comments 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 251 


upon what is stated to be an extract from the Lon- 
don “ Times,”’ which I find enclosed. 

Although this note is marked confidential and pri- 
vate, I cannot but feel that the fact of my consenting 
to receive it at all must place me in a most embar- 
rassing situation. In order that I may the better 
understand my duty, I will ask it as a favor of your 
Lordship to let me know precisely the light in which 
I am to consider it, — whether addressed to me in 
any way ollicially between us, or purely as a private 
expression of sentiment between gentlemen. 

I have the honor to be, ete. 


Immediately after sending the foregoing to 
the Prime Minister, Mr. Adams wrote to the 
foreign secretary, requesting an interview. This 
was at once accorded, and Mr. Adams then 
handed Lord Palmerston’s note to Earl Russell, 
the only person connected with the government 
whom he officially knew; and, remarking that 
it was “entirely unprecedented,” asked to be 
informed what, if anything, it signified. ‘‘ His 
Lordship,” Mr. Adams wrote, “ said that this 
was all new to him, and of course he could say 
nothing until he had seen Lord Palmerston. 
He hoped I would take no further action until 
after that.” 

Two days intervened, when, having heard 
from Earl Russell in the interim, Lord Palmer- 
ston sent the following in answer to the inter- 


252 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


rogatory contained in Mr. Adams’s reply to his 
previous letter : — 
BrockeEt, 15 June, 1862. 

My prEAR Sir, —I have many apologies to make 
to you for not having sooner answered your letter. 
You are of course at liberty to make such use of my 
former letter as you may think best. 

I was impelled to make known to you my own per- 
sonal feelings about General Butler’s Proclamation, 
before any notice of it in Parliament should compel 
me to state my opinion publicly. 

I cannot but hope that the President of the United 
States will at once have given peremptory orders for 
withdrawing and cancelling the Proclamation. 

The Federal Government are making war in order 
to compel the Southern States to reénter the Union, 
but the officers and soldiers of the Federal Govern- 
ment, by their conduct not only at New Orleans but 
as stated in private accounts which I have seen, are 
implanting undying hatred and sentiments of insa- 
tiable revenge in the breasts of those whom the Fed- 
eral Government want to win back to an equal par- 
ticipation in a free Constitution. 

My dear Sir, Yrs faithfully, 
PALMERSTON. 
Hon. C. F. ApAms. 


To the foregoing Mr. Adams next day replied 
as follows : — 
Lonpon, 16 June, 1862. 
My Lorp, —I have to acknowledge the reception 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 253 


of your Lordship’s note of yesterday in reply to mine 
of the 12th inst. I have read it with attention, but 
I regret to perceive that it inadvertently omits to 
favor me with an answer to the question which I 
respectfully asked in it. 

Under these circumstances the painful embarrass- 
ment in which I am involved is in no way relieved. 
Although it be true that the confidential character of 
the first note is now taken off by your Lordship’s con- 
sent, I notice that the word “private” is still at- 
tached to both. : 

I trust your Lordship will at once understand how 
impossible it is for me, with any self-respect, to en- 
tertain as private any communications which contain 
what I cannot but consider most offensive imputations 
against the Government which I have the honor to 
represent at this Court. Imputations, too, based 
upon an extract from a London newspaper on which 
the most unfavorable construction is placed without 
a@ moment’s consideration of any other, or any delay 
to understand the action of the Government itself. 

I am quite certain that that Government did not 
send me to entertain any discussions of this kind 
here. It is in my view fully competent to the care 
of its own reputation, when attacked either at home 
or abroad. But I know it would visit with just in- 
dignation upon its servants abroad their tame sub- 
mission to receive under the seal of privacy any 
indignity which it might be the disposition of the 
servants of any sovereign however exalted to offer 
to it in that form. 


254 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Under these circumstances, I feel myself compelled, 
for my own relief, to the painful necessity of once 
more respectfully soliciting your Lordship to know 
whether your first note of the 11th instant was de- 
signed in any way officially, or whether it was simply 
a private communication of sentiment between gen- 
tlemen. 

I have the honor to be, my Lord, 
Yr Obedient Serv’t. 


The Right Hon. Viscount PALMERSTON, etc., ete. 


Nothing further transpired in the matter un- 
til the 19th. Mr. Adams then had a further 
official interview with the foreign secretary on 
other business; after disposing of this, he re- 
ferred to the Palmerston matter which, he said, 
kept him embarrassed. He informed Earl Rus- 
- sell that Lord Palmerston “ had not answered 
my second note, and it was now four days. His 
Lordship said he had written a note to his Lord- 
ship, to which no answer had been returned. 
He would write again. He intimated that the 
thing was altogether irregular, and could be re- 
garded only as a private proceeding. This was 
a great relief to me, for I now saw that I had 
all the advantage. Another admission of his 
was not unimportant, and that was his belief 
that the rebellion was drawing to its end, at 
least in the open field. He referred to the mo- 
tion of Mr. Lindsay, to be proposed to-morrow 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 255 


in the House of Commons, as one that must 
come to nothing. All this indicates a propi- 
tious change in the temper of the ministry, and 
a sign that Lord Palmerston has overshot his 
mark. I think it was the most kindly interview 
I have had.” 

Earl Russell’s reference to the motion to be 
made the following day in the House of Com- 
mons probably explains the whole purpose of 
Lord Palmerston. He had contemplated a 
piece of what can only be designated as “par- 
liamentary claptrap.” Taking advantage of 
the loud and widespread denunciation of But- 
ler and the order No. 28, he meant to tell an 
applauding House, in true Palmerstonian vein, 
how he, the Premier, had given the American 
minister “a bit of his mind” on that subject. 
Unfortunately, he found that he had, in his pre- 
cipitation, “ overshot his mark,’ as Mr. Adams 
expressed it. On the one hand, put in a false 
position by the antagonist thus provoked, he 
had seriously compromised his personal relations 
with the minister of the United States ; while, 
on the other hand, he had been reminded, some- 
what curtly it may be assumed, by his associate 
in the ministry, not to meddle in matters within 
the latter’s province. Altogether, the incident 
was not a subject for self-laudation. It had 
best be silently dismissed. Mr. Adams, under 


256 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the circumstances, was of the same opinion, as 
the following diary entry shows : — 

‘“ Friday, 20th June : — Sent a closing note to 
Lord Palmerston, assuming his note to be a with- 
drawal of the offensive imputations, and declin- 
ing this form of correspondence for the future. 
I also sent the remainder to the government at 
home. My relief at getting out of the personal 
question is indescribable. It is not for me to 
become a cause of quarrel between the two coun- 
tries at this crisis.” 

The remainder of the correspondence was as 


follows : — 
Private. 


94 PiccApDILLy, 19 June, 1862. 

My preAR Sir, — You repeat in your letter of 
the 16th a question which our relative positions 
might, I think, have rendered unnecessary, namely, 
whether my first letter to you should be considered 
as a communication between private gentlemen or 
as bearing an official character. 

If I had been merely a private gentleman I should 
not have deemed myself entitled to address the Min- 
ister of the United States upon a public matter; and 
if you had been here merely as a private gentleman, 
I should not, as Head of the Government, have 
thought it of any use to communicate with you upon 
any matter which might have a bearing upon the re- 
lations between our two countries. So much for the 
first part of your question. 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 257 


As to the second part, it is well known that the 
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs is the regular 
official organ for communications between the British 
Government and the Governments of Foreign States ; 
but it is also well known that it is a part of the func- 
tions and may sometimes be the duty of the first Min- 
ister of the Crown to communicate with the represent- 
atives of Foreign States upon matters which have a 
bearing upon the relations between Great Britain and 
those States; and such communications are often as 
useful as those which take place more formally and 
officially between the Secretary of State and such 
representatives. 

Now the perusal of General Butler’s Proclamation 
excited in my mind feelings which I was sure would 
be shared by every honorable man in the United 
Kingdom, and it required no great sagacity to foresee 
that those feelings would not be conducive to the 
maintenance of those mutual sentiments of good-will 
between our respective countrymen, which are so 
much to be desired for the interest of both nations. 

I conceived, therefore, that I was doing good ser- 
vice to both, by enabling you in such manner as to 
you might seem best, to let your Government know 
the impression which General Butler’s Proclamation 
had produced in this country ; and I thought it bet- 
ter that you should know that impression privately 
and confidentially from a person who is in a situation 
to judge what the feelings of the British nation may 
be, rather than that you should for the first time learn 
them in a more public manner. 


258 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


I at the same time implied a hope that the United 
States Government would not allow itself to be re- 
presented in such matters by such a person as the 
author of that Proclamation. This hope, I am glad 
to find, has proved to be well founded; for we have 
learnt by Dispatches from Lord Lyons that all power 
over the civil inhabitants of New Orleans has been 
taken away from General Butler and has been placed 
in other hands; and it appears that the new civil Govy- 
ernor has issued a Proclamation which, by promising 
security for the Honor of the inhabitants of the city, 
virtually and I may add virtuously annuls the pro- 
clamation of General Butler. We have also learnt 
with satisfaction that the United States Government 
have sent to New Orleans an officer specially in- 
structed to inquire into and to redress certain out- 
rageous proceedings of General Butler towards Con- 
sular Agents of European Powers. 

You are pleased to say in your last letter that I 
have cast offensive imputations upon, and have offered 
indignity to your government; I entirely deny the 
charge; and assert that there is nothing in my letters 
which can bear it out. My observations applied to 
the Proclamation of General Butler; and the United 
States Government have shown by superseding him 
in his civil command that they shared the sentiments 
which I have expressed, and they have thereby done 
themselves honor. 

I am, my dear sir, yours faithfully, 
PALMERSTON. 
The Hon’ble C. F. ApAms, ete., ete. 


A BOUT WITH THE PREMIER 259 


5 Upper Porrianp Puace, 20 June, 1862. 

My Lorp, — In all the relations which I have had 
the honor to hold with her Majesty's Ministers, it has 
been a source of satisfaction to me to be able to say 
that I have met with nothing but the utmost courtesy 
both publicly and privately. I trust that on my part 
I have labored not without success to act in the same 
spirit. Your Lordship’s note to me of the 11th in- 
stant was the first instance in which that line ap- 
peared to me to be infringed upon. 

I now understand by the answer to my note of the 
16th, with which your Lordship has favored me, that 
in writing that first note you do act as First Minister 
to the Crown, and that you do address me as the Min- 
ister of the United States. To that extent the case 
is then resolved into a public transaction. 

But, on the other hand, your Lordship has put upon 
this apparently public act the special mark of a con- 
fidential and a private communication, thereby, so far 
as it may be in your power, laying an injunction of 
secrecy upon me, without my consent, which would 
seem to prevent me from construing your action as 
that of the Government which you represent. 

I now understand your Lordship substantially to 
withdraw what I cannot but regard as the precipitate 
implications contained in your first note, so far as 
they relate to the Government of the United States 
by denying their existence. I am very happy to 
be able to come to that conclusion, inasmuch as it 
discharges me from all further responsibility in 
the premises. A copy of the correspondence will 


260 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


be transmitted to the Government of the United 
States. 

It is however no more than proper to add that the 
difficulties in the way of this anomalous form of pro- 
ceeding seem to me to be so grave, and the disad- 
vantage under which it places those persons who may 
be serving as diplomatic representatives of foreign 
countries at this Court so serious, as to make it my 
painful duty to say to your Lordship that I must 
hereafter so long as I remain here in a public capa- 
city decline to entertain any similar correspondence. 

I have the honor to be, my Lord, 
Y’r very obed’t Serv’t. 


The Right Hon. Viscount PALMERSTON, etc., etc. 


Mr. and Mrs. Adams now discontinued their 
customary attendance at the receptions at Cam- 
bridge House. The manner in which the wily 
and really good-natured Prime Minister, acting 
after his wont in such eases through the skillful 
codperation of Lady Palmerston, subsequently, 
when he thought desirable so to do, renewed 
social relations, was interesting and eminently 
characteristic ; but to recount it is beyond the 
scope of the present sketch. 


CHAPTER XIV 
THE COTTON FAMINE 


THE European diplomatic situation from an 
American point of view was, in the years 1861 
and 1862, sufficiently delicate without being 
made more so by the intervention of either the 
overzealous naval officer or the overbearing 
Prime Minister. In the Trent affair and in the 
Butler correspondence both these intruded them- 
selves on Mr. Adams. In no respect was his 
bed one of roses. These difficulties once dis- 
posed of, the problem reduced itself to its natu- 
ral elements. They were comparatively sim- 
ple. It was a question whether the efforts of 
the moneyed, commercial, and aristocratic cir- 
cles of Great Britain, stimulated by Napoleon 
III., to precipitate Her Majesty’s government 
into some kind of a participation in the Ameri- 
can war, could be held in check until either the 
moral, anti-slavery sentiment of England could 
be aroused, or the forces of the Union should 
assert an indisputable supremacy. To the last 
result an effective blockade was indispensable ; 
and of course an effective blockade of the Con- 


262 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


federacy implied for Europe the almost com- 
plete stoppage of its cotton supply. 

The supreme test was, therefore, to be applied 
at the exact point and in the way foreshadowed 
by B. C. Yancey to his brother, the Confederate 
European commissioner, at Montgomery, in Feb- 
ruary, 1861. He then, it will be remembered, 
advised W. L. Yancey not to go to Europe as" 
the diplomatic representative of the Confed- 
eracy, relying solely on the efficacy of cotton to 
produce all desired results ; and, while so doing, 
pointed out that in Great Britain Cobden and 
Bright would certainly oppose the recognition 
of ‘a slaveholders’ Confederacy.” Cobden and 
Bright, he asserted, were the leaders of the la- 
boring classes, and to the views and wishes of 
the laboring classes Her Majesty’s government 
always in the end paid deep respect. Jefferson 
Davis, on the other hand, had rested the whole 
foreign policy, and as a result the domestic 
fate, of the Confederacy, on the absolute com- 
mercial, and consequently the political, suprem- 
acy of cotton. The demand for it would prove 
irresistible, and so compel European intervention. 
Six months was the period allotted, in which it 
was to assert its supremacy. Mr. Adams was 
now, as a most interested spectator, to have a 
chance to observe once more, on a different field 
and a larger scale, the struggle between Con- 
science and Cotton. 


THE COTTON FAMINE 263 


The parties to the contest on the side of Cot- 
ton have already been referred to. They in- 
cluded whatever was most in evidence in Great 
Britain, — birth, position, wealth, the profes- 
sions, and Lombard Street. On the side of 
Conscience the array was meagre. B. C. Yan- 
cey had specified Messrs. Cobden and Bright 
only, as the leaders of the British laboring 
classes; and Mr. Adams so found them: but, 
so far as America was concerned, both these 
gentlemen had to yield priority to William E. 
Forster, only three months before elected to 
Parliament as member from Bradford. Through- 
out the struggle now impending Mr. Forster 
proved the most earnest, the most courageous, 
and the most effective friend the United States 
had among men prominent in English public 
life! Mr. Adams, when he arrived in London, 
had absolutely no European acquaintance. Mr. 
Cobden he had met during one of that gentle- 
man’s numerous visits to America, dining in his 
company at the house of John M. Forbes on 
Milton Hill, in June two years before. He had 

1 When, seven years later, Mr. Adams was about to return 
home at the close of his mission, he requested Mr. Forster to 
accept from him a set of the “Works of John Adams,” 
which he had brought out to England, and ‘‘ reserved for the 
person whom I most esteem, as well for his stanch and un- 
varying support of a policy of good-will to America as for his 


personal qualities as I have observed them in private inter- 
course.” 


264 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


then found himself “a little disappointed in Mr. 
Cobden.” He thought him “a man of capacity 
and information, but without any of the lighter 
graces and refinements which are only given 
by a first-class classical education, —a modern 
Englishman, of the reform school.” John 
Bright he had of course heard of. Mr. Forster 
he had never either seen or heard of until, on 
the morning of May 14th, the day after Mr. 
Adams reached London, that gentleman called 
on him at his hotel, coming at once to talk 
“concerning the course of the government, and 
the mode of meeting” the parliamentary action 
already initiated by the friends of the Confed- 
eracy. “He feared that a proclamation was 
about to be issued which, by directly acknow- 
ledging the slave States as a party establish- 
ing its right by force, would tend to complicate 
affairs very considerably.” In the subsequent 
protracted struggle, stretching over the next 
thirty months, Mr. Adams was in constant com- 
munication with these three gentlemen, and they 
rendered the United States services of inesti- 
mable value. In fact, it is not too much to say 
that, but for them, intervention in all prob- 
ability could not have been averted, or the 
blockade maintained. Yet they were all in the 
cotton manufacturing interest, representing re- 


spectively Rochdale, Birmingham, and Bradford. 








THE COTTON FAMINE oi 265 


Curiously enough also, Mr. Cobden, at that 
time politically much the most influential of 
the three, was on broad general principles op- 
posed to blockades. He considered them, like 
privateering, a survival from a barbarous past, 
and contended that in future they should, by 
the common consent of civilized nations, be 
limited in operation to arsenals, dockyards, and 
military strongholds.1|. He wanted the United 
States now to come forward and establish a pre- 
cedent. So he repeatedly urged on Mr. Adams 
the voluntary abandonment by the United States 
of its blockade of the Confederacy, on the 
ground that it did the Union cause more harm 
than good. In taking this position he was 
doubtless influenced by his point of view as a 
manufacturer, and the representative of cotton- 
spinners; but the fact that his advice was dis- 
regarded and his commercial interests sacrificed 
never deflected his political action. He re- 
mained absolutely true to his fundamental prin- 
ciples. Temporary suffering and pecuniary loss 
to the contrary notwithstanding, he set human 
freedom and the elevation of the masses of man- 
kind above the whir of spindles. 

The European cotton famine of 1861- 63, at 
the time a very momentous affair, is now for- 


1 Speech at Manchester, October 25, 1862. Speeches, 451- 
454. Morley’s Life of Cobden, 575. 


266 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


gotten; yet upon it hung the fate of the Ameri- 
ean Union. It has already been shown how, in 
the diplomatic game of the Confederacy, it was 
the one great card in their hand; the card sure, 
in their belief, to win: and, as their game grew 
desperate, the Confederate leaders played that 
ecard for all it was worth. Of cotton as a great 
commercial staple the South enjoyed a practical 
monopoly, and the crop of 1860, the largest on 
record, had gone forward in the regular way. 
The shipments were practically complete when 
the blockade of April, 1861, was declared. By 
the spring of 1862, the supply in European 
ports was running ominously low. Estimated 
on May 1, 1861, at nearly 1,500,000 bales, on 
the same date a year later it had become 
reduced to only 500,000. In Liverpool the 
stock had shrunk from close upon 1,000,000 to 
a little more than 360,000 bales, while the price 
per pound had risen from seven to thirteen 
pence. The shrinkage, too, was wholly in the 
American product; and the figures relating to 
that were most significant as bearing on the 
growing effectiveness of that blockade, which 
the Confederate emissaries were in the habit of 
referring to, with well-simulated contempt, as a 
mere paper pretense. But in May, 1862, the 
efficacy of the blockade was read in the cot- 
ton quotations; for, during the preceding six 


THE COTTON FAMINE 267 


months, the quantity received from America 
had been only 11,500 bales, while in the corre- 
sponding period of 1860-61 it had been 1,500,- 
000, more than one hundredfold the quantity 
now received. In Manchester and Liverpool 
the distress was already indisputably great, and, 
moreover, obviously increasing. One half of 
the spindles of Lancashire were idle, and in the 
towns of Blackburn and Preston alone over 
20,000 persons were dependent on parochial aid. 
Of seventy-four mills in Blackburn in the early 
days of September, 1862, eighteen were run- 
ning full time, sixteen short time, and thirty 
were entirely closed; the weekly loss of wages 
amounted to one thousand pounds. Blackburn 
was typical; other manufacturing communities 
were in scarcely better plight. The newspapers 
were full of pitiable cases of individual destitu- 
tion; public meetings were held; the subject 
was brought before both Houses of Parliament. 
The strain on the Poor Laws was so severe that 
their modification was considered ; but still the 
distress was not so great as had before been 
known, nor were the local resources exhausted. 
Meanwhile the period of six months, originally 
assigned by the Confederate economical authori- 
ties as the extreme limit of European endurance, 
was already long passed, and some among them 
began to entertain doubts. Among these was 


268 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


William L. Yancey. His observations in Eu- 
rope had widened his vision ; and when return- 
ing home in March, 1862, he reached New Or- 
leans, though in the course of a public speech 
made in the rotunda of the St. Charles Hotel, 
he intimated a belief that necessity would 
shortly compel a European raising of the block- 
ade, he significantly added: “It is an error to 
say that ‘Cotton is King.’ It is not. It is a 
great and influential power in commerce, but 
not its dictator.” 

In the manufacturing districts the situation 
grew rapidly worse, — became in fact well-nigh 
unendurable. On the one hand, the looms 
which in 1860 had consumed on an average 
40,000 bales of American cotton a week, now 
might count upon receiving, perhaps, 4000 ; on 
the other hand, the unprecedented price brought 
by the staple failed, for reasons elaborately ex- 
plained, to stimulate the production of India 
and Egypt to the extent necessary to meet the 
deficiency. In May, 1862, American cotton 
ruled at thirteen pence per pound. It con- 
tinued at about that price until July, when it 
rose to seventeen pence; and thence, in Au- 
gust, shot up first to twenty pence, and after- 
wards, by speculative leaps and bounds, it went 
up and up, until, at last, on September 3d, it 
was quoted at half a crown a pound. Such 


THE COTTON FAMINE 269 


figures were unheard of; but, even at thirty 
pence, the fast vanishing supply on hand at 
Liverpool was depleted by shipments to Havre 
and New York. The French and American 
spinners were in the market at any price. Of 
course none but the best equipped mills, turn- 
ing out the finest fabrics, could manufacture 
such costly raw material; for, in view of the 
relative prices of the raw material and the coarser 
manufactured fabric, it was now much more pro- 
fitable to hold cotton for a rise than to turn it 
into cloth. The situation was thus complicated 
by a wild speculative movement, and the mill- 
owner, who was fortunate enough to have a stock 
of cotton on hand, shut down, because he could 
make more as a speculator than as a spinner. 
Meanwhile as he grew rich on an unearned 
increment, the idle operatives starved. Thus 
the inferior mills closed their gates, while those 
of the better class ran on reduced time, — two, 
three, or four days in the week. By the end 
of September, out of 80,000 operatives in five 
localities in Lancashire, only 14,000 were work- 
ing full time, while the remaining 66,000 were 
about equally divided between those working 
on short time and those wholly idle. In twenty- 
four unions 156,000 persons were reported as 
receiving parochial relief, and the number was 
then increasing at the rate of 6000 aweek. As 


270 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


compared with the same time in the previous 
year, the war then not yet being six months 
old or the crop of 1860 cotton exhausted, the 
situation was deemed very bad; the number of 
applicants for relief had increased nearly three- 
fold. Before the end of October conditions 
were appreciably worse. In the same number 
of unions 176,000 people were receiving relief ; 
in six consecutive weeks 35,668 persons had 
become paupers; while the wholly unemployed 
exceeded those working on full time by nearly 
two to one. At the beginning of 1861, the con- 
sumption of. cotton in Great Britain was esti- 
mated at 50,000 bales per week; at the close of 
1862 it had fallen to 20,000 bales, of very in- 
ferior weight as well as quality. The weekly 
loss of wages was computed at $100,000. The 
local resources, municipal and voluntary, were 
exhausted, or inadequate for the work of relief, 
and a call for aid went forth. The response 
was generous. Not only were large private 
subscriptions forthcoming, but collections were 
taken up throughout the United Kingdom, while 
Australia, Canada, India, and even China sent 
in their contributions. Between the 9th of 
June and the 81st of December the Central 
Executive Committee having the work of relief 
in hand charged itself with no less than £593,- 
000 received from these sources. Meanwhile, 


THE COTTON FAMINE > O71 


in spite of. this magnificent giving, the columns 
of the press teemed with instances of dire suf- 
fering. 

In France the situation was no better; in- 
deed, owing to the deeper poverty of the popu- 
lation at the manufacturing centres, some as- 
serted that it was worse. At Rouen, of 50,000 
operatives ordinarily engaged in spinning, weav- 
- ing, dyeing, ete., 30,000 were absolutely with- 
out occupation. In the adjoining country dis- 
tricts, out of 65,000 hand-looms, one fifth only 
were at work. It was estimated that in a single 
district no less than 130,000 persons, aggre- 
gating with those dependent upon them a total 
of some 300,000 souls, were absolutely destitute, 
all because of the cotton famine. The editor of 
the “ Revue des Deux Mondes” declared that a 
sum of twelve millions of francs was required to 
maintain these people for three months, even 
supposing that cotton would be forthcoming at 
the end of that time. The estimate was of 
course based on the supposition that immediate 
measures would be taken to raise the blockade. 

The extraordinary feature in the situation 
was, however, the patience of the victims; and 
the organs of the Confederacy noted with ill- 
suppressed dismay the absence of “political 
demonstrations, to urge upon a neglectful gov- 
ernment its duty towards its suffering subjects, 


272 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


and to enforce at once the rules of international 
law and the rights of an injured and innocent 
population.” A distinctly audible whine was 
perceptible in their utterances. ‘ It is,” one of 
them said, “the great peculiarity of England 
that the heart of the country is thoroughly re- 
ligious. ‘The plain issue, then, between the two 
nations, was therefore naturally overlooked by 
those whose programme in America was the law 
of conscience overriding the law of the land; 
and the prominence they gave to the slave ques- 
tion was especially directed to the religious pub- 
lic in England. And well has it answered their 
purpose. To this very hour the great mass of 
the people have no other terms to express the 
nature of the conflict. It is to no purpose that 
argument, fact, and experience have shown the 
utter indifference of the North to the welfare of 
the negro; the complete appreciation by the 
slaves themselves of the sham friendship offered 
them ; and, still more, the diabolical preaching 
of the ministers of God’s word, who rely on 
Sharp’s rifles to carry out their doctrines. The 
emancipation of the negro from the slavery of 
Mrs. Beecher Stowe’s heroes is the one idea of 
the millions of British who know no better, and 
do not care to know.” In truth, the fundamen- 
tal sin of the Confederacy had found it out. 
Literally, and in no way figuratively, the curse 


THE COTTON FAMINE 273 


of the bondsman was on it. Rarely, indeed, in 
the history of mankind, has there been a more 
creditable exhibition of human sympathy, and 
what is known as altruism, than that now wit- 
nessed in Lancashire. The common folk of 
England, Lincoln’s “ plain people,” workless and 
hungry, felt what the wealthier class refused to 
believe, that the cause at issue in America was 
the right of a workingman to his own share in 
the results of his toil. That cause, they .in- 
stinctively knew, was somehow their cause, and 
they would not betray it. So no organized cry 
went up to break the blockade which, while it 
shut up cotton, was throttling slavery. 

Yet not for six months, or until the close of 
1862, did the distress show signs of abatement. 
During those months the weekly returns of the 
poor were watched with an anxiety hardly less 
great than if they had been the bills of mor- 
tality in a time of plague. The quotations of 
cotton marked unerringly the severity of the 
pressure. Touching thirty pence at the begin- 
ning of September, before the close of the year 
it ruled five pence lower. A falling market 
then put a stop to speculation, and cotton in 
store began to find its way to the market. The 
staple was no longer hoarded, and the stock on 
hand was found to be materially larger than 
had been supposed. In a speech made by him 


274 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


at this time, Mr. Gladstone estimated that of 
the entire number of persons concerned in the 
manufacture of cotton fabrics, one eighth only 
were at full work, three eighths were working 
short time, while one half were wholly idle. Of 
the unemployed and their families, 250,000 were 
paupers, and 190,000 dependent to a greater or 
less degree on the relief societies; the entire 
charge, public and private, was £44,000 per 
week. The loss of wages he computed at eight 
millions sterling a year. Nevertheless, natural 
causes were bringing about a gradual measure 
of relief. Thus early in January, 18638, the 
number of dependent persons was reported at 
nearly 457,000 ; in April this number had fallen 
to 864,000; and it further fell to 256,666 in 
June. At the close of the year it was 180,000; 
and, though the price of American cotton still 
ruled at twenty-six pence, the supply of the 
staple from all sources in 1863 was more than 
twenty-five per cent. greater than in 1862. By 
that time, therefore, all danger from a cotton 
scarcity was over. The Confederacy had staked 
its whole foreign policy on a single card; and 
the card had failed to win. Yet the failure was 
due to no sudden contingencies beyond human 
prevision. It was, on the contrary, a com- 
plete case of miscaleculating overconfidence, — 
the means were inadequate to the end. The 


THE COTTON FAMINE 275 


pressure had been applied to the full extent, 
and every condition contributed to its severity. 
The warehouses were bursting with manufactured 
goods, the overproduction of the previous year, 
which alone, through glutted markets, would 
have caused a reaction and extreme consequent 
dullness in the manufacturing centres. This 
natural result was vastly aggravated by the 
blockade, which shut off the raw material from 
such of the mills as would still have kept ‘run- 
ning. The speculator, waiting for the last 
farthing of the rise, then held the scanty stock 
on hand unspun. The other cotton-producing 
countries responded but slowly to the increased 
demand, and then only with a very inferior 
article, the spinning of which spoiled the ma- 
chinery. Finally the Confederacy held its en- 
emy at arm’s length during five times the period 
every Southern authority had fixed upon as 
ample in which to establish King Cotton’s su- 
premacy. Nothing sufficed. An alleged dynasty 
was fairly and completely dethroned. It was a 
great game, and the leaders of the Confederacy 
were skillful gamblers as well as desperate. In 
that game, so lightly and confidently entered 
upon, they held what proved to be a large card: 
but it was not the absolutely decisive card they 
thought it; and, as is not unusual at the gam- 
ing table, there proved to be in the hands 


276 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


engaged other and more than counterbalancing 
combinations. The bondsman and nineteenth 
century self-sacrifice had not been sufficiently 
taken into account. Conscience carried it over 
Cotton. 

One more feature in this episode remains to 
be mentioned; for it was not without its influ- 
ence on that deep underlying stratum of public 
opinion which carried the American cause 
through its crisis. By the tales of misery in 
patient Lancashire, the sympathies of all Eng- 
lish-speaking communities had been deeply 
stirred. Contributions poured in from the re- 
motest regions of the earth. Within the thir- 
teen months ending June 380, 18638, charity pro- 
vided nearly two millions sterling for the relief 
of distress, in addition to £625,000 derived 
from the local poor rates. Of gifts in kind. 
clothing and blankets by the bale, coal by the 
ton, and flour by the barrel had come in, each 
in thousands. On the 6th of December John 
Bright wrote to Mr. Sumner: “I see that some 
one in the States has proposed to send something 
to our aid. If a few cargoes of flour could come, 
say 00,000 barrels, as a gift from persons in 
your Northern States to the Lancashire work- 
ingmen, it would have a prodigious effect in 
your favor here.” As if in magic response to 
the thought, there now came to the Mersey in 


THE COTTON FAMINE 277 


quick succession three food-laden “ relief-ships ”’ 
from New York, —the Hope, the George Gris- 
wold,and the Achilles. America then had its 
own burdens to bear. The amounts expended 
from public and private sources for the dis- 
tressed of Lancashire during the fifteen months 
of famine were computed as reaching the amaz- 
ing sum of $12,000,000, while the aggregate of 
loss sustained in wages alone was estimated at 
fifty millions. These were largeamounts. They 
implied much suffering of a varied nature. Yet 
the entire contribution, great and significant as 
it was, would not have sufficed to cover the ex- 
penditure and waste involved on the side of the 
Union alone in a single month of the trans-Atlan- 
tic struggle then going on; while the sum total 
whether of human suffering or of pecuniary loss 
sustained throughout Great Britain because of 
the cotton famine was less than that endured 
each fortnight by the combined American peo- 
ple at home and in the field. That in the midst 
of such stress — carnage, wounds, and devasta- 
tion — food by the cargo was forthcoming as a 
gift from those involved in the real agony of 
war to those for whom that war had occasioned 
distress, passing though sharp, was neither un- 
noticed nor barren of results. 


CHAPTER XV 
THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 


MEANWHILE, in the month of September, 
1862, during the severest stress of the cotton 
famine, the cause of the Union had in Europe 
passed its crisis, — that in which the full recog- 
nition of the Confederacy, and the consequent 
raising of the blockade through the armed in- 
tervention of Great Britain and France, were 
most imminent. The secret history of what 
then took place, giving to the course of events 
its final shape, has never as yet been fully re- 
vealed ; but, though nervously conscious of the 
imminence of danger, Mr. Adams could only 
watch the developments, powerless to influence 
them, except adversely by some act or word 
on his part a mistake. 

All through the summer of 1862 the min- 
isters of Napoleon III. were pressing the British 
government towards recognition, and the utter- 
ances of English public men of note were be- 
coming day by day more outspoken and signifi- 
cant. Of these, some were of little moment; 
others meant more. It did not much matter, 


THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 279 


for instance, that the honest, but ill-balanced 
and somewhat grotesque, John Arthur Roe- 
buck, when addressing his constituency at 
Sheffield on August 8th, referred, in the pre- 
sence of Lord Palmerston, to the United States 
as ‘a people that cannot be trusted,” and to 
the Union army as “the scum and refuse of 
Europe.” It was not much more to the purpose 
that he denounced the North as having “ put 
forward a pretense,” and declared that “they 
are not fighting against slavery,’ while the 
whole effort to reunite the country was “an 
immoral proceeding, totally incapable of suc- 
cess.” Finally his appeal to “the noble Lord,” 
then present, “ to weigh well the consequences of 
what he calls ‘ perfect neutrality,” would not 
under ordinary circumstances have carried much 
weight with the Premier. The same may be 
said of Mr. Beresford-Hope, who, in his ad- 
dress about the same time to the electors of 
Stoke-upon-Trent, bewailed the “unhappy in- 
fatuation ” which had led the North “ to venture 
its all upon the cast for empire, misnamed lib- 
erty,” and thus to risk “its own moral degra- 
dation ;”’ and then pledged himself to vote in 
Parliament to place “the Confederate States 
amongst the governments of the world.” Nor 
was Mr. Lindsay of much greater moment when, 
at Chertsey, he declared “the question practi- 


280 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


cally settled,’ and asked: “Is there one man in 
a thousand in this country who thinks that the 
broken Union can be restored?” —then pro- 
ceeding to denounce “this wicked, this worthless 
war.” These men, and men like these, carrying 
with them little weight in life, were speedily 
forgotten when dead. Not so Mr. Gladstone, 
who now at Newcastle, on October Tth, was be- 
trayed into utterances which he was afterwards 
at much trouble to explain. ‘There is no 
doubt,”’ he said, amid loud cheers from his au- 
dience, ‘“‘that Jefferson Davis and other leaders 
of the South have made an army; they are 
making, it appears, a navy ; and they have made 
what is more than either, — they have made a 
nation. ... . We may anticipate with certainty 
the success of the Southern States so far as re- 
gards their separation from the North. I can- 
not but believe that that event is as certain as 
any event yet future and contingent can be.” 
Mr. Gladstone was then chancellor of the ex- 
chequer ; the date of the utterance was October 
7th. Both time and utterance were significant ; 
nor did the latter pass unchallenged. In the 
Palmerston-Russell ministry Sir George Corne- 
wall Lewis held the position of secretary of 
state for war. An able, an upright, and a cour- 
ageous public man, Sir George Lewis, in direct 
response to Mr. Gladstone, and almost imme- 


THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 281 


diately afterwards, at a meeting at Hereford, 
on the 14th, while admitting that, in the general 
opinion of Great Britain, “the contest would 
issue in the establishment of the independence 
of the South,” went on to declare that “ it could 
not be said the Southern States of the Union 
had de facto established their independence,” 
or were in a position to be entitled to recogni- 
tion on any accepted principles of public law. 
It was not without reason that Mr. Lindsay, 
referring a few days later to this speech of Sir 
George Lewis’s, remarked that he had “ reason 
to believe the barrier that stopped the way [to 
a recognition of the Confederacy] is not any of 
the great powers of Europe, — is not the unani- 
mous cabinet of England, but a section of that 
cabinet.” 

Such was the fact; and the danger was ex- 
treme. Lord Palmerston had at last made up 
his mind that the time had come. Accordingly, 
on September 14th, he wrote to Earl Russell 
suggesting a joint offer by Great Britain and 
France of what is in diplomatic parlance known 
as “good offices.” This Earl Russell was now 
quick to approve. He, too, thought the occasion 
meet. ‘I agree with you,” he wrote in reply to 
Palmerston on September 17th, “the time is 
come for offering mediation to the United States 
government, with a view to the recognition of 


282 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the independence of the Confederates. I agree 
further that, in case of failure, we ought our- 
selves to recognize the Southern States as an 
independent state.’ He went on to suggest an 
early meeting of the cabinet to pass upon the 
question. On the 23d the Premier acknow- 
ledged the note of the foreign secretary, pro- 
nouncing the plan of the latter “excellent,” 
adding characteristically : “Of course the offer 
would be made to both the contending parties at 
the same time; for, though the offer would be 
as sure to be accepted by the Southerners as 
was the proposal of the Prince of Wales to the 
Danish Princess, yet, in the one case as the 
other, there are certain forms which it is decent 
and proper to go through. . . . Might it not be 
well to ask Russia to join England and France 
in the offer of mediation? . . . We should be 
better without her, because she would be too 
favorable to the North; but, on the other hand, 
her participation in the offer might render the 
North more willing to accept it.” The middle 
of October was the time he suggested for action. 
Naturally, the two heads of the ministry took it 
for granted that their concurrence would control 
its action. It proved otherwise; and hence the 
great significance of Sir George Lewis’s Here- 
ford utterances in response to those of Mr. Glad- 
stone. The difference was pronounced; the 


THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 283 


several ministers were admitting the public into 
their confidence. Lord Russell, however, per- 
severed. A confidential memorandum, outlin- 
ing the proposed policy, went out; and a call 
was issued for a cabinet meeting on October 
23d, for its consideration. The authority of the 
two chieftains to the contrary notwithstanding, 
the division of opinion foreshadowed by the 
remarks of Sir George Lewis proved so serious 
that the meeting was not held. The Duke of 
Argyll and Mr. Milner Gibson were the two 
most pronounced “* Americans” in the cabinet ; 
and they received a measured support from Mr. 
C. P. Villiers and Sir George Lewis. The Con- 
federate emissaries in London had access to ex- 
cellent sources of information; far better, in- 
deed, than those at the command of Mr. Adams. 
Their organ, a little later, thus referred to the 
attitude of the government: “On matters of 
public policy, the cabinet must, in some sense, 
think alike; there must be a cabinet opinion. 
. . . Now, on many questions, and especially on 
the American question, there prevails the great- 
est disunion of feeling among the members of 
the cabinet. Some of them sympathize strongly 
with the Confederate States. . . . Others are 
devoted to the North. Others, and notably the 
Prime Minister, care nothing for either party. 
. . . They do not care to involve themselves in 


284 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


any difficulty foreign or domestic, by siding with 
the Confederates ; and their only wish is to let 
the matter alone. At present this party practi- 
cally determines the action, or rather inaction, 
of the cabinet; which is quite aware that any 
attempt to have an opinion or lay down a policy 
in regard to American affairs must be fatal to 
the very pretense of accord, and to its official 
existence. Therefore the ministry does nothing, 
because nothing is the only thing which the dif- 
ferent sections can agree to do.” The question, 
so far as Great Britain was concerned, thus 
from this time forth became one of internal 
polities, social divisions, and parliamentary ma- 
jorities. 

Meanwhile, following indications closely, Mr. 
Adams had in July anticipated some such action 
of the British and French governments as being 
then in contemplation ; not yet matured, he felt 
sure it was in mind. ‘ Mischief to us in some 
shape,” he wrote, “will only be averted by the 
favor of Divine providence on our own efforts. 
I wrote a full dispatch to Mr. Seward.” In 
that dispatch he asked for further and explicit 
instructions as to the course he should pursue, 
if approached by Earl Russell with a tender of 
‘‘ good offices.” The response reached him about 
the middle of August, a few days only after Mr. 
Roebuck had orated at Sheffield before his con- 


THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 285 


stituency and the Prime Minister. So far as 
explicitness was concerned, the instructions now 
received were in no way deficient. Carrying the 
standard entrusted to him high and with a firm 
hand, the secretary bore himself in a way of 
which his country had cause to be proud. The 
paper read in part as follows : — 

“Tf the British government shall in any way 
approach you directly or indirectly with propo- 
sitions which assume or contemplate an appeal 
to the President on the subject of our internal 
affairs, whether it seem to imply a purpose to 
dictate, or to mediate, or to advise, or even to 
solicit or persuade, you will answer that you are 
forbidden to debate, to hear, or in any way re- 
ceive, entertain, or transmit any communication 
of the kind. You will make the same answer 
whether the proposition comes from the British 
government alone or from that government in 
combination with any other power. 

“Tf you are asked an opinion what reception 
the President would give to such a proposition, 
if made here, you will reply that you are not 
instructed, but you have no reason for supposing 
that it would be entertained. 

“Tf contrary to our expectations the British 
government, either alone or in combination with 
any other government, should acknowledge the 
insurgents, while you are remaining without 


286 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


further instructions from this government con- 
cerning that event, you will immediately sus- 
pend the exercise of your functions, and give 
notice of that suspension to Earl Russell and to 
this department. If the British government 
make any act or declaration of war against the 
United States, you will desist from your fune- 
tions, ask a passport, and return without delay 
to this capital. I have now in behalf of the 
United States and by the authority of their 
chief executive magistrate performed an im- 
portant duty. Its possible consequences have 
been weighed, and its solemnity is therefore 
felt and freely acknowledged. This duty has 
brought us to meet and confront the danger of 
a war with Great Britain and other states allied 
with the insurgents who are in arms for the 
overthrow of the American Union. You will 
perceive that we have approached the contem- 
plation of that crisis with the caution which 
great reluctance has inspired. But I trust that 
you will also have perceived that the crisis has 
not appalled us.” 

Ignorant of the September correspondence 
between the Prime Minister and the foreign sec- 
retary, but with this letter of instructions in his 
desk, Mr. Adams had on October 8th read the 
report of Mr. Gladstone’s Newcastle speech. 
“If he,” Mr. Adams wrote, “be any exponent 


THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 287 


at all of the views of the cabinet, then is my 
term likely to be very short.” The next day 
came more “ indications ;”’ and he added: “We 
are now passing through the very crisis of our 
fate. I have had thoughts of seeking a confer- 
ence with Lord Russell, to ask an explanation of 
Mr. Gladstone’s position; but, on reflection, I 
think I shall let a few days at least pass, and 
then perhaps sound matters incidentally.” 
Making a visit at this time to the Forsters, 
than whom, he wrote, ‘no persons in England 
have inspired me with more respect and regard,” 
Mr. Adams communicated to his host ‘in con- 
fidence the substance of my instructions. He 
thought I ought to make the government aware 
of them, before they committed themselves.” A 
few days later came the speech of Sir George 
Lewis, and Mr. Adams, still anxiously noting 
the situation, wrote: “I think [Gladstone] 
overshot the mark;” but he rightly regarded 
the cabinet meeting then called for the 28d as 
being decisive of the policy now to be pursued. 
*‘T so wrote to the government to-day.” 
Exactly what passed in anticipation of this 
truly crucial cabinet meeting has remained a 
state secret. The Palmerston-Russell ministry 
from the beginning held office by an uncertain 
tenure; it held it, indeed, through the acquies- 
cence and silent support of a large element in 


288 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the ranks of the Conservatives, who recognized 
in the Prime Minister one of themselves. He 
had outlived opposition, and was now accepted 
as a species of party compromise. He would 
remain in office as long as he lived, provided 
always he presented no strong issue, whether 
internal or foreign. He understood the situa- 
tion perfectly, and held parliamentary reform 
in abeyance, on the one hand, while, on the 
other, he did not countenance intervention. 
The moral sentiment of Great Britain on the 
issue of African slavery was not yet fully 
aroused, and from all other sides the pressure 
for recognition and the raising of the blockade 
was strong. Lord Palmerston, as his correspond- 
ence with Earl Russell shows, was quite ready 
to yield to the pressure, had it not involved a 
break. But it so chanced that it did involve a 
break ; and the ministerial ranks were not strong 
enough to stand a break. Sir George Lewis’s 
utterances, backed by Cobden, Bright, and 
Forster, were very ominous. Probably consider- 
ations prevailed then similar to those which two 
years later led the same two chieftains to a re- 
luctant acquiescence in a like cautious policy 
in the Schleswig-Holstein imbroglio. “ As to 
cabinets,” Lord Palmerston then wrote to Earl 
Russell, “if we had colleagues like those who 
sat in Pitt’s cabinet, you and I might have our 


THE CRISIS OF RECOGNITION 289 


own way on most things; but when, as is now 
the case, able men fill every department, such 
men will have opinions, and hold to them.” 
However this may have been, Mr. Adams on 
the afternoon of October 23d, the date fixed for 
the canceled cabinet meeting, had an official 
interview with the foreign secretary, at which, 
after disposing of some matters of nominal 
importance, he got to the “real object in 
the interview.” Referring to the departure of 
Lord Lyons from London for Washington, he 
having in reality been detained by the govern- 
ment until its American policy had been de- 
cided upon, “I expressed,” Mr. Adams wrote, 
* the hope that he might be going out for a long 
time. I had, indeed, been made of late quite 
fearful that it would be otherwise. If I had en- 
tirely trusted to the construction given by the 
public to a late speech, I should have begun to 
think of packing my carpet-bag and trunks. 
His Lordship at once embraced the allusion ; 
and, whilst endeavoring to excuse Mr. Glad- 
stone, in fact admitted that his act had been 
regretted by Lord Palmerston and the other 
cabinet officers.” 

Unknowingly, and with the narrowest possi- 
ble margin of safety, the crisis had been passed. 
Three weeks later, Mr. Adams made the follow- 
ing diary entry : — 


290 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


“ Friday, 14th November, 1862 : — Some ex- 
citement here by the publication of a letter of 
M. Drouyn de Lhuys, the new minister of for- 
eign affairs in Paris, proposing to the courts of 
England and Russia a joint offer of mediation 
in the American struggle, to begin with an ar- 
mistice of six months. This letter is dated on 
the 15th of last month, so that it has probably 
been already answered by both governments. 
The general impression here is that it has been 
declined. I have a letter from Mr. Dayton to- — 
day, giving the substance of his conference with 
M. Drouyn de Lhuys, and reporting him as say- 
ing that in case of the other powers declining 
nothing would be done. It is nevertheless a 
strange move.” 


CHAPTER XVI 
THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 


In the mean time one of the great events of 
the century had taken place in America. On 
September 22d, while the British Prime Minis- 
ter and foreign secretary were corresponding 
with a view to the immediate recognition of the 
“‘slaveholders’ Confederacy,” the Emancipa- 
tion Proclamation of President Lincoln had 
been made public. Slavery as an issue in the 
struggle then going on could no longer be de- 
nied or ignored. It was there; and it was 
there to stay. The knot was cut; the shackles 
were knocked off. 

The ultimate influence of this epochal move 
in Europe, especially in Great Britain, was im- 
mense; but, at the moment, it seemed to excite 
only astonishment, mingled with scorn and hor- 
ror. It was not even taken seriously. Indeed, 
a reprint of the editorials of the leading Eng- 
lish papers of that date would now be a literary 
curiosity, as well as a most useful vade mecum 
for the race of ready, editorial writers. An in- 
structive memorial of human fallibility, it might 


292 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


preserve from many future pitfalls. Not a 
single one of the London journals of 1862 rose 
to an equality with the occasion. An event oc- 
curred second in importance to few in the de- 
velopment of mankind; the knell of human 
bondage was sounded, and one more relic of 
barbarism ceased: yet, having eyes they saw 
not, having ears they did not hear. Purblind 
and deaf, they only canted and caviled. The 
tone varied from that of weak apology in the 
friendly ‘‘ News,” to that of bitter denunciation 
in the hostile “‘ Post.” The “Times” charac- 
terized the Proclamation as “a very sad docu- 
ment,” which the South would “ answer with a 
hiss of scorn.’ It was instructive merely as 
“proof of the hopelessness and recklessness” 
of those responsible for it; while, as an act of 
policy, it “is, if possible, more contemptible 
than it is wicked.” The “ Morning Herald” 
pronounced it “an act of high-handed usurpa- 
tion,’ with “no legal force whatever.” ... 
Had “Mr. Davis himself directed the course of 
his rival, we do not think he could have dic- 
tated a measure more likely to divide the North 
and to unite the border States firmly with the 
South.” The “ Post” remarked: “ It is scarcely 
possible to treat seriously of this singular mani- 
festo. If not genuine, the composition would be 
entitled to no little praise as a piece of match- 


THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 293 


less irony.” The “Standard” pronounced the 
whole thing a “sham” intended ‘to deceive 
England and Europe” — “the wretched make- 
shift of a pettifogging lawyer.” The “ Daily 
Telegraph ” accused President Lincoln and his 
advisers of having “ fallen back upon the most 
extravagant yet most commonplace ‘ dodges’ of 
the faction that placed them in power.” Mean- 
while, the more kindly disposed “ News” pro- 
nounced the step thus taken “feeble and halt- 
ing,’ and gave as its opinion that the Procla- 
mation had not “the importance which some 
persons in England are disposed to attach to 
it.” These extracts are all from the issues of 
the leading London journals of a single day 
(October 7, 1862); but they sufficiently illus- 
trate the tone of thought and the state of feel- 
ing in which Mr. Adams was then compelled to 
draw the breath of life. It was bitterly, aggres- 
sively, vindictively hostile. 

It was another case of people using the same 
speech, and yet talking in different tongues. 
Even when he honestly wished so to do, the 
Englishman could not understand America, or 
things American ; and now he did not wish to. 
He had read General Butler’s order No. 28, as 
he would have read a similar order governing 
the action of an English soldiery in India or a 
French soldiery in Spain. It was an invitation 


294 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


to outrage. So now he saw in the Proclamation 
either mere emptiness, or an incitement to ser- 
vile insurrection. If not, as he believed and 
hoped, an idle menace, it meant a repetition 
of the horrors of the Sepoy mutiny, then only 
four years gone and fresh in English memory, 
or a renewal on an infinitely larger scale of the 
unforgettable atrocities of St. Domingo. That 
by any possibility it should prove in the result 
what it actually did prove, never at the time 
dawned on the average cockney brain ; nor, in- 
deed, did the possessors of that brain welcome 
the idea when at last it forced its way there. 

It is, in fact, difficult now to realize the lan- 
guage used in 1862-63 towards the men of the 
North by Englishmen who professed the most 
intimate knowledge of them. For instance, a 
Mr. Cowell, who had at one time lived for sev- 
eral years in the United States as the represent- 
ative of no less an institution than the Bank of 
England, but was now residing in apparent re- 
tirement at Cannes, in a pamphlet published 
about this time, in reference to “ points in the 
Yankee national character which ought to be 
borne in mind,” thus delivered himself: ‘* The 
narrow, fanatical, and originally sincere puri- 
tanism of their ancestors has, in the course of 
six generations, degenerated into that amalgam 
of hypocrisy, cruelty, falsehood, unconsciousness 


THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 295 


of the faintest sentiments of self-respect, coarse- 
ness of self-assertion, insensibility to the opin- 
ions of others, utter callousness to right, bar- 
barous delight in wrong, and thoroughly moral 
ruffianism, which is now fully revealed to the 
world as the genuine Yankee nature; and of 
which Butler, Seward, etc., who are pure repre- 
sentative Yankees, afford such finished exam- 
ples.” And it was from the government of a 
community of this character that the Emanci- 
pation Proclamation of 1862 was, among those 
comprising certain influential classes of British 
society, supposed to have emanated. 

To Mr. Adams, the adoption of the policy 
set forth in the Proclamation seemed “ a mere 
question of time.” It was emancipation through 
martial law; that solution of the trouble which 
had been predicted by his father time and again 
in Congress a quarter of a century before: and 
now, when at last it came, as he observed the 
effect of its announcement on his British sur- 
roundings, his feelings found expression in that 
stern Puritan speech, characteristic of the stock 
and of the man. Communing, after his wont 
with himself, he wrote in his diary: ‘I do not 
pretend to peer into the future; but this terrible 
series of calamities appears as a just judgment 
upon the country for having paltered with the 
evil so long. (God have mercy on us, miserable 
offenders! ” 


296 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


For a time after the news of the Proclama- 
tion reached Europe, the friends of the Confed- 
eracy seemed to have exclusive control of both 
press and platform. Examples of journalistic 
utterance have been given ; those of the average 
gentleman lecturer and member of Parliament 
were scarcely more discreet. Of the former 
class, Mr. Beresford-Hope energetically charac- 
terized the Proclamation as “ this hideous out- 
burst of weak yet demoniacal spite,” and “ the 
most unparalleled last card ever played by a 
reckless gambler.” Of the latter class, Mr. 
Lindsay hastened to declare that :— “ Instead of 
being a humane proclamation, it was, in fact, a 
specimen of the most horrible barbarity, and a 
more terrible proclamation than had ever been 
issued in any part of the world.” A Mr. Pea- 
cocke, member from North Essex, towards the 
close of October, at a great Conservative de- 
monstration at Colchester, went even further than 
Mr. Lindsay, declaring of the Proclamation that, 
if it “was worth anything more than the paper 
on which it was inscribed, and if the four mil- 
lions of blacks were really to be emancipated on 
January 1st, then we should be prepared to wit- 
ness a carnage so bloody that even the horrors of 
the Jacquerie and the massacres of Cawnpore 
would wax pale in comparison. . . . The eman- 
cipation proclamation, even if it had been in the 


THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 297 


interest of the negro, would have been a political 
crime; but when we reflect that it was put forth, 
not in the interest of the negro or of civilization, 
but that it was merely a vindictive measure of 
spite and retaliation upon nine millions of whites 
struggling for their independence, it was one 
of the most devilish acts of fiendish malignity 
which the wickedness of man could ever have 
conceived.” The distress of these gentlemen 
should have been greatly alleviated when, at 
about this time, the special correspondent of 
the “ Times,” writing from the Confederacy on 
the effect of the Proclamation, but exercising the 
common capacity for self-deception to another 
end, gravely assured the British public that, — 
“ Acvain and again the slaves have fled from the 
Yankee army into the swamp to escape a com- 
pulsory freedom ; and there is abundant evidence 
that if a being so morally weak and nerveless as 
the African could be made to fight for anything, 
he would fight for slavery much rather than for 
liberty.” 

A few days later, with characteristic blunt- 
ness, Mr. Bright said in a letter, “I applaud 
the proclamation ;” and for the United States to 
emerge from the contest leaving “the slave still 
a slave will expose [it] to the contempt of the 
civilized world.” The Confederate organ in 


1 London Times, December 1, 1862. 


298 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


London, commenting on this letter, spoke with 
measurable accuracy when it announced in reply 
that ““every organ of a considerable party ” 
pronounced the edict ‘“‘ infamous,” and that a 
similar opinion of it was entertained by “ every 
educated and nearly every uneducated English- 
man.” 

But, as the weeks went on they at last brought 
with them significant indications of a deep un- 
dercurrent of opposing sentiment; and on Jan- 
uary 2, 1863, a gentleman from Manchester — 
the great city of Lancashire, and the centre of 
the cotton famine, then at its worst — called on 
Mr. Adams, bringing him a copy of an address 
to the President from a meeting of workingmen 
held on the last day of the previous year. “I 
was glad to seize the occasion to express my 
satisfaction with it,” wrote Mr. Adams. ‘ It 
was quite a strong manifestation of good feel- 
ing. There certainly is much sympathy felt 
in the lower classes, but little or none by the 
upper.” On the 16th a committee called to 
present the resolutions of the British Emanci- 
pation Society on the Proclamation, which had 
been confirmed as finally operative by the mails 
of three days before. Even then, so dubious 
was the chairman of the organization as to the 
effect of the step on public opinion, that he 
evinced a strong disposition to defer action. 


THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 299 


But, wrote Mr. Adams, “later in the day, 
[when] the committee came, it proved so numer- 
ous and respectable that I heard no more of 
Mr. Evans’s seruple. He, as chairman, pre- 
sented to me the resolutions; after which Mr. 
P. A. Taylor, member of Parliament from 
Leicester, the Rev. Baptist Noel, Rev. Newman 
Hall, and Mr. Jacob Bright made some remarks, 
all expressive of earnest sympathy with Amer- 
ica in the present struggle. There can be hittle 
doubt that now is the time to strike the popular 
heart here; and the effect may be to checkmate 
the movement of the aristocracy.” In other 
words, Mr. Adams was now working on the very 
elements in Great Britain which, two years be- 
fore at Montgomery, B. C. Yancey had pointed 
out to his brother as fatal to the chances for 
recognition of “a slaveholders’ Confederacy.” 

Soon the addresses began to pour into the 
Legation in a steady and ever-swelling stream. 
“It is clear,” wrote Mr. Adams, “ that the cur- 
rent is now setting strongly with us among the 
body of the people. This may be quite useful 
on the approach of the session of Parliament ;”’ 
or, as B. C. Yancey had expressed it: “ Suffrage 
had not then been enlarged to reach the labor- 
ing classes, but the government was scarcely 
less respectful of their wishes on that account.” 
On January 29th a meeting was held in Exeter 


300 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Hall, “reported as one of the most extraordi- 
nary ever made in London,” proving to Mr. 
Adams “ conclusively the spirit of the middle 
classes here as well as elsewhere.” For the 
first time since he had been in England, he had 
the cheering consciousness of sympathy and 
support. “ It will not change the temper of the 
higher classes,” he wrote, “ but it will do some- 
thing to moderate the manifestation of it.” 
Four days later the delegation from the Exeter 
Hall meeting called to present the address. “I 
received them,” wrote Mr. Adams, “in my din- 
ing-room, which was very full. The body 
seemed to be clergy ; but all looked substantial 
and respectable. The chairman made some re- 
marks explanatory of the difficulties previously 
in the way of a movement of this kind. Then 
came remarks from different speakers, some 
very good, and others quite flat; [but] there 
was no mistaking the tone, which was strong 
and hearty in sympathy with us. I think there 
can be little doubt that the popular current now 
sets in our favor. They left me with hearty 
shakes of the hand, that marked the existence 
of an active feeling at bottom. It was not the 
lukewarmness and indifference of the aristo- 
eracy, but the genuine English heartiness of 
good-will.” | 

The organ of the Prime Minister at this time 


THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 301 


editorially referred to the Exeter Hall meeting 
as “a great disgrace to the Christian religion, 
and an egregious blunder as a step towards 
emancipation.” ! In so doing, it voiced the sen- 
timents of the ruling class. Cobden voiced 
those of the laboring classes ; and Cobden now 
wrote to Sumner: — “I know nothing in my 
political experience so striking, as a display of 
spontaneous public action, as that of the vast 
gathering at Exeter Hall, when, without one 
attraction in the form of a popular orator, the 
vast building, its minor rooms and passages, and 
the streets adjoining, were crowded with an 
enthusiastic audience. That meeting has had a 
powerful effect on our newspapers and _politi- 
cians. It has closed the mouths of those who 
have been advocating the side of the South. 
And I now write to assure you that any un- 
friendly act on the part of our government — 
no matter which of our aristocratic parties is in 
power — towards your cause is not to be appre- 
hended. If an attempt were made by the goy- 
ernment in any way to commit us to the South, 
a spirit would be instantly aroused which would 
drive that government from power.” The tri- 
bune of the British people and the organ of the 
Prime Minister of England thus saw the thing 
from different points of view. The result shortly 
1 The Morning Post, Saturday, 31st January, 1863. 


302 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


showed which was right. From this time on 
nothing but an outburst of patriotic, warlike 
passion, provoked by some untoward incident 
like that of the Trent, could have sufficed to | 
master the rising voice of English conscience. 
It was the final demonstration of the soundness 
of the advice his brother gave Mr. Yancey, two 
years before, so often already alluded to:— 
“Unless the (Confederate) government should 
send a Commission (to Europe) authorized to 
offer commercial advantages so liberal that the 
Exeter Hall influence could not withstand them, 
the British government, however well disposed, 
would not venture to run counter to the anti- 
slavery feeling by recognition of the Confederate 
States.” Cobden and Bright, B. C. Yancey had 
added, were the leaders of the laboring classes ; 
and “Cobden and Bright would oppose the 
recognition of a slaveholders’ Confederacy.” 4 
Parliament assembled February 5th, only two 
days after the Exeter Hall delegation had pre- 
sented the address to Mr. Adams, and six days 
before Mr. Cobden wrote to Mr. Sumner, setting 
forth its significance. ‘“ The most marked in- 
dication,” wrote Mr. Adams, “ respecting Amer- 
ican affairs, was the course of Lord Derby and 
Mr. D’Israeli [in] the debate on the address, 
which decidedly discouraged movement. On 


1 Life and Times of W. L. Yancey, 588, 589. 


THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 303 


their minds the effect of the President’s procla- 
mation on public sentiment here has not been 
lost.” Nor had its effect on that sentiment 
been lost on the “ Times.” The utterances of 
the ‘“* Thunderer” on the contrary were now 
more than ever significant, and expressive of 
the views of those among whom it circulated. 
Read in the light of forty years after, they have 
an interest still : — 

“Though there is little homage to principle 
in the President’s proclamation, any attempt on 
the part of the American government, however 
tardily, reluctantly, and partially made, to 
emancipate any portion of the negro race, must 
have an effect on the opinion of mankind, and 
tend to what we have never doubted would in 
some way or other be the final result of this 
war, the abolition of slavery. But our exulta- 
tion is by no means without misgivings... . 
If the blacks are to obtain the freedom he pro- 
mises them, it must be by their own hands. 
They must rise upon a more numerous, more in- 
telligent, better-armed, and braver community 
of whites, and exterminate them, their wives 
and children, by fire and sword. The President 
of the United States may summon them to this 
act, but he is powerless to assist them ‘in its ex- 
ecution. Nay, this is the very reason why they 
are summoned. ... Mr. Lincoln bases his act 


304 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


on military necessity, and invokes the consider- 
ate judgment of mankind and the judgment of 
Almighty God. He has characterized his own 
act; mankind will be slow to believe that an 
act avowedly the result of military considera- 
tions has been dictated by a sincere desire for 
the benefit of those who, under the semblance 
of emancipation, are thus marked out for de- 
struction, and He who made man in His own 
image can scarcely, we may presume to think, 
look with approbation on a measure which, un- 
der the pretense of emancipation, intends to re- 
duce the South to the frightful condition of St. 
Domingo. . . . In the midst of violent party 
divisions, in ostentatious contempt of the Con- 
stitution, with the most signal ill success in war, 
he is persisting in the attempt to conquer a na- 
tion, to escape whose victorious arms is the only 
triumph which his generals seem capable of 
gaining. Hvery consideration of patriotism and 
policy calls upon him to put an end to the hope- 
less contest, but he considers the ruin is not 
deep enough, and so he calls to his aid the ex- 
ecrable expedient of a servile insurrection. 
Egypt is destroyed ; but his heart is hardened, 
and he will not let the people go.” 

And thus the slave-owners, and not the slaves, 
were in London, in the early days of 1863, 
likened unto the children of Israel escaping 


THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION 305 


from the land of bondage ; while Abraham Lin- 
coln figured, somewhat incongruously, as the 
great and only American Pharaoh! As he read 
day by day these effusions of vindictive cant and 
simulated piety, it is small matter for surprise 
that, restrained in expression as he habitually 
was, Mr. Adams impatiently broke out in his 
diary: “ Thus it is that the utter hollowness of 
the former indignation against America for up- 
holding slavery is completely exposed. *The 
motives of that censure, as for the present emo- 
tion, are jealousy, fear, and hatred. It is im- 
possible for me to express the contempt I feel 
for a nation which exhibits itself to the world 
and posterity in this guise. It is a complete 
forfeiture of the old reputation for manliness 
and honesty.” 


CHAPTER XVII 
THE ALABAMA AND THE ‘“‘ LAIRD RAMS” 


Captain JAMES H. Buwwocn, formerly of 
the United States navy, but later the duly ac- 
credited naval agent in Europe of the Confed- 
eracy, had at this time long been busy negotiat- 
ing with the shipbuilders and shipowners of 
Great Britain, and sending out to the Confed- 
erate ports large consignments of munitions of 
war. Coming direct from Montgomery, he had 
reached Liverpool on June 4, 1861. Through 
his indefatigable efforts, the keel of the Oreto, 
afterwards famous as the Florida, had, within a 
month of his arrival, been laid; and, on August 
1st following, he closed a contract with the 
Messrs. Laird, large Liverpool shipwrights, for 
the construction of the Alabama, or “290,” as 
she was called, that number simply designating 
her order among the vessels constructed in the 
Laird yards at Birkenhead. The Alabama was 
not launched until the 15th of May, 1862. She 
was then put in course of rapid preparation for 
sea. 

The purpose for which the “290” was de- 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 307 


signed was at Liverpool matter of common town 
talk. She was to be a Confederate commerce- 
destroyer. The British Foreign Enlistment Act 
had been examined by counsel on behalf of the 
Confederate agent, and its provisions riddled. 
There was no question whatever that the act 
was designed to provide against the fitting out 
of warlike expeditions in the ports of Great 
Britain, and especially to prevent those ports 
being made the base of naval operations against 
friendly powers; or, in the language of the en- 
actment, “the fitting out, equipping, and arming 
of vessels for warlike operations.” Counsel 
learned in the law now, however, advised that 
there was nothing in the act which made illegal 
the building of a warship as one operation ; 
and nothing which prevented the purchase of 
the arms and munitions to equip such vessel, 
when built, as another operation. But the two 
must be kept distinctly separate. If, then, hav- 
ing been thus kept separate, they subsequently 
came together, this combination constituted no 
violation of the law, provided the result —a 
man-of-war, armed, equipped, and in every way 
ready for service — was brought about in some 
foreign waters more than one marine league 
from the British coast. Subsequently this con- 
struction of the statute was gravely propounded 
in Parliament by ministers and law repre- 


308 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


sentatives of the crown, and, at last, for- 
mally laid down for the guidance of juries by 
the Lord Chief Baron of the Court of Exchequer. 
Obviously, the law and its administration were 
together brought into contempt; and any goy- 
ernment official, from the Prime Minister down, 
who might endeavor to enforce the manifest in- 
tent of the statute, or honestly to regard the 
international obligations of the country, must do 
so at his peril, and with a distinct understand- 
ing that any jury before which the case might 
be brought would find heavy damages against 
him. The construction of vessels, built avowedly 
for war purpose, and designed as Confederate 
commerce-destroyers, seemed, therefore, likely 
to prove an industry at once safe and lucrative. 
If a delivery to the party ordering them was 
prevented, the government would have to in- 
demnify every one. 

Naturally, this extremely technical and thor- 
oughly characteristic construction of the Neu- 
trality Act failed to commend itself to the repre- 
sentatives of the United States in Great Britain. 
That it was at the time highly acceptable to the 
Parliament, the press, and the moneyed and com- 
mercial classes of that country was apparent. It 
was looked upon also as an exceeding good joke. 
Indeed, it had its side of broad humor. The pas- 
sengers on English packets, which a little later 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS _ 309 


fell in with the Alabama, cheered her vociferously 
and to the echo. Was she not a Mersey-built 
ship, armed with English guns, manned by Brit- 
ish sailors? She was destroying the commerce 
of the United States ; and yet in her construction 
and equipment, judge, counsel, and ministers 
were all agreed that no law had been violated, nor 
had any disregard been shown to Her Majesty’s 
Proclamation of Neutrality. The Yankee had 
on this occasion at least been fairly outwitted. 
None the less, while the shipbuilders, the law- 
yers, and the government officials were busy over 
the preliminaries of this elaborate international 
burlesque, and before the final perpetration of 
the joke, the gradual completion of the “ 290” 
was watched with sleepless eyes by Mr. Dudley, 
the very efficient United States consul at Liver- 
pool, and Mr. Adams was kept fully advised as 
to her state of preparation. He, in his turn, 
bombarded the Foreign Office with depositions 
and other evidence in regard to her. These 
Her Majesty’s government had under constant 
consideration ; but they were uniformly advised 
by the crown lawyers that a sufficient case 
against the vessel had not been made out. 
Captain Bulloch, meanwhile, was fully in- 
formed as to the movements of Mr. Dudley and 
Mr. Adams, and prepared to balk them. The 
erew of the Enrica, as the ‘290 ” was called, was 


310 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


engaged, but not all shipped, lest their num- 
ber and indiscreet talk should attract notice, 
furnishing further evidence against her. She 
was to meet her consort, carrying her muni- 
tions and armament, including an additional 
supply of coal, in the Azores, at the Bay of 
Praya. No precautions calculated to evade the 
provisions of law had been omitted. 

In July, 1862, heavy military reverses both in 
Virginia and Tennessee had followed the Union 
successes of the spring of that year, and the 
spirits of those sympathizing with the Confeder- 
ates, a vast majority of the English people, had 
so rallied that Mr. Adams well-nigh despaired 
of being able much longer to counteract the 
hostile influences. “ There is not,’ he despond- 
ingly wrote, ‘“‘ much disguise now in the temper 
of the authorities.” As to the government 
‘authorities ” at Liverpool, there was certainly 

o “ disguise,” or pretense even of “ disguise,” 
so far as their individual sympathies were con- 
cerned. They were pronounced in their Con- 
federate leanings ; though, as matter of course, 
the usual protestations were made as respects the 
impartial performance of what in such cases is 
usually denominated “ duty.”’ Unfortunately, it 
was not a question of common town talk or pub- 
lic notoriety ; for probably not one human being — 
in Liverpool who had given any attention to the 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 311 


matter questioned for an instant that the war- 
vessels then under forced construction at Birken- 
head were intended for the service of the Con- 
federacy. On this head the collector of the 
port, Mr. S. Price Edwards, unquestionably 
entertained as little doubt as either the Laird 
Brothers or Captain Bulloch. When, however, 
it came to evidence of the fact, the man willfully 
shut his eyes, and would not be convinced by 
anything possible to obtain. The imputation 
and strong circumstance which led directly to 
the door of proof were nothing to Mr. Edwards ; 
he wanted ocular demonstration, and that of 
course Mr. Dudley could not furnish. It was 
afterwards suggested by high authority that the 
American agents should have then gone directly 
to the Messrs. Laird, and asked them frankly if 
they did not propose to violate the law; and, in 
such case, “‘ the high character of these gentle- 
men would doubtless have insured either a refus- 
al to answer or a truthful answer.”! This ex- 
tremely ingenuous method of procedure probably 
never occurred to Consul Dudley ; and, on his 
side, the collector would seem to have deemed 
nothing short of the open admission of a crimi- 
nal intent by the parties in interest as sufficient. 
Imputations of corruption were subsequently 


1 Opinion of Sir Alexander Cockburn in the Geneva arbi- 
tration. Papers Relating to the Treaty of Washington, iv. 453, 


312 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


current, involving Mr. Edwards; and it was 
even whispered that he was the “private but 
most reliable source”? from which the Confed- 
erate agents received the confidential intima- 
tions which enabled the Alabama to escape de- 
tention. There is no evidence whatever that 
such was the case. On the contrary, Mr. Col- 
lector Edwards would appear to have been simply 
an honest but obtuse man, of decided Confeder- 
ate proclivities, who thought to protect him- 
self against official responsibility by insisting 
on the impossible. It is doubtful, however, 
whether even he could have had the effrontery 
to propose to the American consul the unique 
method of securing evidence afterwards sug- 
gested by Lord Chief Justice Cockburn. While 
the statute law of the realm was unquestionably 
being turned into a manifest farce, everything 
was done gravely and in an orderly way; and it 
would have been manifestly unbecoming to in- 
ject into the performance at its then stage 
broad practical jokes of a distinctly side-split- 
ting character. 

It is not necessary here to enter into a detailed 
account of what now took place, and the efforts, 
strenuous and sustained, put forth by Mr. Adams 
to induce the British government to respect its 
own laws and its treaty obligations. .The ground 
has since that time been most thoroughly tray- 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 313 


ersed, and the printed matter relating to it 
amounts to a literature in itself. It is sufficient 
to say that not only did British ministries repre- 
senting both parties in the state subsequently 
concede that the course then pursued by those 
responsible for the government could not be 
justified, but Earl Russell himself within a year, 
and while still foreign secretary, admitted to 
Mr. Adams that the case of the Alabama was a 
‘“‘scandal,” and, ‘‘in some degree, a reproach ” 
to the laws of Great Britain. Finally, while as 
a history the work of James F. Rhodes is marked 
by a sobriety of tone not less commendable than 
the good temper and thoroughness of research 
throughout evinced in it, yet when he came to 
making a summary of the performances connected 
with this incident, that grave author felt moved 
to remark that, while to do justice to them ‘‘ com- 
pletely baffles the descriptive pen of the histo- 
rian,’ they would have been most useful and sug- 
gestive “to the writer of an opera-bouffe libretto, 
or to Dickens for his account of the Circumlocu- 
tion Office.” 4 

It is sufficient here to say that after represen- 
tation on representation, accompanied by endless 
documents and affidavits, designed to prove that 
which every one knew, had been for months for- 
warded to the Foreign Office, and there pro- 

1 History of the United States, iv. 88. 


314 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


nounced defective or inadequate, the American 
minister on July 23d “addressed another com- 
munication to Lord Russell, so that the refusal to 
act may be made as marked as possible.”’ Two 
days earlier, on the 21st, Collector Edwards had 
by letter notified the Commissioners of Customs 
at London that “the ship appears to be ready 
for sea, and may leave at any hour she pleases.” 
Directly appealed to by the American consul, 
the Commissioners of Customs, on the 238d, with 
this letter of their Liverpool subordinate before 
them, declined to act. This was on Wednesday. 
Before the close of the week the papers from 
the Foreign Office relating to the case, covering 
‘“‘ evidence strong and conclusive’ in the words 
of Mr. Adams, and backed by “a still stronger 
opinion”? of leading English counsel, had, in 
the bandying process, reached the table of the 
Queen’s advocate, Sir John Harding. He just 
then broke down from nervous tension, and 
thereafter became hopelessly insane. His wife, 
anxious to conceal from the world knowledge of 
her husband’s condition, allowed the package to 
lie undisturbed on his desk for three days, — 
days which entailed the destruction of the Amer- 
ican merchant marine ; and it was on the first of 
these days, Saturday, July 26, 1862, that Captain 
Bulloch, at Liverpool, ‘received information 
from a private but most reliable source that it 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS _ 315 


would not be safe to leave the ship at Liverpool 
another forty-eight hours.” On the following 
Monday accordingly the Alabama, alias the 
“© 290,” alias the “‘ Enrica,” was taken out of 
dock, and, under pretense of making an additional 
trial trip, steamed, dressed in flags, down the 
Mersey, with a small party of guests on board. 
It is needless to say she did not return. The 
party of guests were brought back on a tug, 
and the Enrica, now fully manned, was, on the 
dist, off the north coast of Ireland, headed sea- 
ward in heavy weather. A grave international 
issue had been raised, destined to endure and 
be discussed throughout the next ten years. 
Shortly before the “ 290,” subsequently world- 
renowned as the Alabama, thus evaded the ex- 
tremely sluggish crown officials, instructions had 
reached Captain Bulloch from the Confederate 
naval department forthwith to contract for two 
ironclad ships of war, of the most formidable 
description then built; and the sum of one mil- 
lion dollars in cash had been placed at his dis- 
posal to be used in payment for the same. This 
sum, it was promised, should, later on, be in- 
creased by an equal amount. Contracts were 
at once closed with the firm of Laird Brothers, 
and by the middle of July, 1862, work on both 
ships had fairly begun. Fully equipped for sea, 
but without batteries or munitions of war, these 


316 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ships were to cost £98,750 each, and they were 
to be ready, the one of them in March and the 
other in May, 1863. Naval architecture at that 
time was developing rapidly. Five years later, 
in July, 1867, Mr. Adams attended the great - 
naval review at Portsmouth in honor of the 
Sultan of Turkey, and, among the ironclad, tur- 
reted leviathans there arrayed, one of the two 
famous “ Laird rams” was pointed out to him. 
Her day was already gone; “as I looked on 
the little mean thing,” he wrote, “I could not 
help a doubt whether she was really worthy of 
all the anxiety she had cost us.” None the less, 
built on the most approved models of that time, 
and designed to be equipped with formidable 
batteries and every modern appliance of war, 
the Laird rams were naval creations with which 
neither steam wooden ships nor the monitors 
in use in 1863 could successfully cope. With 
the rams, acting in concert, it was intended to 
break and raise the blockade of the Southern 
ports, and thus secure for the Confederacy for- 
eign recognition. If necessary to secure this 
result, New York and Boston were to be in- 
vaded, and those cities put under requisition. 
This scheme, as feasible apparently as it was 
dangerous, it devolved on Mr. Adams to balk, if 
in any way possible. Its success involved a for- 
elgn war. 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 317 


Meanwhile the experience of the Alabama 
showed how difficult the task before him was, and 
the agents of the United States were in a 
condition of complete discouragement. The 
Queen’s proclamation to the contrary notwith- 
standing, parties in Great Britain were en- 
gaged in both constructing and equipping a 
formidable Confederate navy. Nevertheless, 
though the life had been construed out of the 
statute, and the agents of the United States 
were in a demoralized condition, these last 
kept Mr. Adams well advised of everything 
going on, and the consequent pressure brought 
steadily to bear on the Foreign Office was by 
no means unproductive of results. In 1863 the 
Alabama was in her full career of destruction, 
and so much of the American merchant marine 
as was not sent in flames to the bottom was fast 
seeking protection under foreign flags. Witha 
view to increasing the pressure, therefore, Mr. 
Adams now formally opened his long and mem- 
orable Alabama correspondence with Earl Rus- 
sell. While work was actively going on in the 
Birkenhead yards, the receipt of controversial 
dispatches served as a constant reminder to the 
Foreign Office, both of its proven shortcomings 
in the past and its possible future delinquencies. 
As to neither was Earl Russell to be given rest. 
In March, 18638, this correspondence was pub- 


318 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


lished in the London papers, and much com- 
mented upon. That Great Britain should be 
asked to pay for the ruin wrought by the 
commerce-destroyers let loose on a friendly na- 
tion through her lax administration of her own 
laws, was a new view of the subject, —a view 
also which, at this stage of proceedings, savored, 
to the average British mind, of what they loved 
to refer to as ‘‘ Yankee ”’ impudence and “ cute- 
ness.” A huge joke, even Captain Raphael 
Semmes, C. S. N., commanding the Alabama, 
stopped in the midst of his burnings to enjoy — 
a quiet laugh over it. “That ‘little bill,’” he 
wrote from Bahia to Captain Bulloch, on May 
21, 1863, ‘“‘ which the Yankees threaten to pre- 
sent to our Uncle John Bull, for the depre- 
dations of the Alabama, is growing apace, and 
already reaches $3,100,000.” The ‘“ Yankee” 
has not generally been deemed deficient in a 
sense of humor; but this joke, of an intensely 
practical kind, he failed to appreciate; and 
so war between the two countries was now 
regarded as imminent, and the great mercan- 
tile houses of London were taking precautions 
accordingly. Mr. Adams, however, did not de- 
spair. ‘I shall,” he wrote, as he noted down 
the gathering indications, “do my best to avoid 
it.” It was the dark hour of the long night; 
but, for him, it preceded the dawn. 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 319 


The pinch now came. More and more clearly 
the issue of the American struggle depended on 
the blockade. On the other hand, the machin- 
ery for breaking the blockade was almost per- 
fected. Owing to delays in construction at first, 
and later to complications growing out of legal 
proceedings instituted by Mr. Adams in other 
similar cases, the first of the two rams was not 
launched until July 4th, instead of in March, as 
had been originally agreed ; and the other was 
delayed until the end of August. Early in Sep- 
tember Mr. Adams forwarded fresh represen- 
tations. The work for which the vessels were 
designed was matter of notoriety; but still the 
government “could find no evidence upon which 
to proceed in stopping”’ them. How much the 
government of Jefferson Davis counted on the 
shrewd stroke thus ‘in preparation for the 
“Yankee,” and the importance they gave to it, 
— greater than that set on any victory in the 
field, — was shown in the references to the rams 
of Mr.S. R. Mallory, who in the Richmond cabi- 
net held the position of secretary of the navy. 
Writing to Mr. Slidell, in Paris, on the 27th of 
March, 1863, Mr. Mallory said: ‘Our early 
possession of these ships, in a condition for ser- 
vice, is an object of such paramount importance 
to our country that no effort, no sacrifice, must 
be spared to accomplish it. Whatever may be 


320 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


the conditions of placing them at our command 
will be promptly met.” A year later, when 
the action of the British government in detain- 
ing the rams proved to be final, Mr. Mallory 
wrote concerning the event to Captain Bulloch 
in language which sounded like a wail. He 
referred to it as “a great national misfor- 
tune,” and spoke of his own hopes, “shared by 
thousands around me,” as ‘ prostrated by the 
intelligence.” He then dwelt on “the bitterness 
of his disappointment.”” Had the Confederate 
government, President Davis in his turn de- 
clared, been successful in getting those vessels 
to sea, ‘it would have swept from the ocean the 
commerce of the United States [and] would 
have raised the blockade of at least some of our 
ports.” 

Those in charge of the navy of the Union and 
coast defenses of the United States were cor- 
respondingly alarmed. As the result of careful 
inquiry, they described the two ships as “ of the 
most formidable character, and equal, except in 
size, to the best ironclads belonging to” the 
British government. So urgent was the occa- 
sion deemed that two private gentlemen of high 
character and reputation for business and execu- 
tive capacity were secretly sent out to England 
at the shortest possible notice to outbid the 
Confederacy, if possible, and buy the ships for 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 321 


the United States. Ten millions of dollars in 
freshly issued government bonds were put in 
their hands to be used as they saw fit for this 
purpose. Diplomatically, it was a most danger- 
ous course, as the United States now proposed 
secretly to do just what its accredited re- 
presentative in Great Britain was strenuously 
claiming that the Confederacy had no right to 
do. The emergency alone could justify the 
proceeding; but the emergency was thought 
to be extreme. “You must stop [the Laird 
rams] at all hazards,” wrote Captain Fox, the 
assistant secretary of the navy, “‘as we have 
no defense againstthem. Let us have them for 
our own purposes, without any more nonsense, 
and at any price. As to guns, we have not one 
in the whole country fit to fire at an ironclad. 
. . . It is a question of life and death.” No- 
thing came of this dangerous mission, as the 
two emissaries, being shrewd and practical men, 
soon became satisfied that to “ offer to buy the 
ironclads without success, would only be to 
stimulate the builders to greater activity, and 
even to building new ones in the expectation of 
finding a market for them from one party or 
the other.” They therefore, like the American 
officials in Europe, quite discouraged, returned 
home before the ironclads were launched, 
bringing with them the greater part of their 


322 — CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ten millions of bonds, which were taken back to 
Washington “in the original packages, with the 
seals of the Treasury unbroken.” ! Mr. Adams 
was prudently kept uninformed as to the errand 
of these gentlemen and the steps they took in 
pursuance of it. 

His own instructions from the State De- 
partment were at this crisis explicit. As re- 
spects also the course the United States gov- 
ernment proposed in certain contingencies to 
pursue, they left no room for doubt. In line 
of thought and even in expression, they fol- 
lowed closely the memorable dispatches Nos. 4 
and 10 of April and May, 1861. “If the law 
of Great Britain . . . be construed by the gov- 
ernment in conformity with the rulings of the 
chief baron of the exchequer, then there will be 
left for the United States no alternative but to 
protect themselves and their commerce against 
armed cruisers proceeding from British ports, 
as against the naval forces of a public enemy. 
. . . Can it be an occasion for either surprise 
or complaint that, if this condition of things is 
to remain and receive the deliberate sanction of 
the British government, the navy of the United 


1 Hughes, Letters and Recollections of J. M. Forbes, ii. 1-66 ; 
Chittenden, Recollections of President Lincoln, i. 194-211; 
Proceedings of Massachusetts Historical Society, Second Series, 
xiii. 177-179. aay 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 323 


States will receive instructions to pursue: these 
enemies into the ports which thus, in violation 
of the law of nations and the obligations of 
neutrality, become harbors for the pirates? The 
President very distinctly perceives the risks and 
hazards which a naval conflict thus maintained 
will bring to the commerce and even to the 
peace of the two countries. . . . If, through the 
necessary employment of all our means of 
national defense, such a partial war shall become 
a general one between the two nations, the 
President thinks that the responsibility for that 
painful result will not fall upon the United 
States.” 

With dispatches of this character on his table 
Mr. Adams, as the weeks rolled by, watched anx- 
iously the dreaded vessels nearing completion. 
Work in the yards of the Laird Brothers had 
been pushed steadily forward all through the win- 
ter, sheds lighted with gas having been erected 
over the rams so as to insure additional hours of 
labor upon them. But, alarmed by the depreda- 
tions of the Alabama and the demands of the 
United States government on account thereof, 
the British officials were now exercising a de- 
gree of surveillance which caused Captain Bul- 
loch much anxiety; and, before the close of 
1862, he expressed himself as apprehensive of 
great difficulty in getting the vessels out of Brit- 


324 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ish jurisdiction. This apprehension increased 
steadily. The object for which armored ships, 
provided with formidable steel beaks, must be 
intended, was too evident to admit of dis- 
guise ; and Captain Bulloch, confessing himself 
“much perplexed,” became satisfied at last that 
the government was prepared to resort to an 
order in council to override the ordinary rules of 
law. So great was the sympathy in Liverpool and 
vicinity that he felt quite confident of his ability 
to overcome “all ordinary opposition;” and 
he assured the Confederate secretary that “ no 
mere physical obstruction could have prevented 
our ships getting out, partially equipped at 
least.” But Earl Russell had been irritated by 
the evasion of the ‘ 290,” of which it had even 
been asserted that he was cognizant in advance ; 
and he now let it be known that he did not pro- 
pose to have that performance repeated. So, 
unless a change should take place in the politi- 
cal character of the ministry, Captain Bulloch 
was obliged to “ confess that the hope of getting 
the ships out seems more than doubtful, — in- 
deed, hopeless.” This was towards the close of 
January, 1863, — six months nearly before the 
first of the rams left the ways. 

Messrs. Mason and Slidell at this point be- 
came factors in the course of proceedings. They 
shared in the views of Secretary Mallory, deem- 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 325 


ing the early possession of the ships of “ para- 
mount importance,” —a result for the attain- 
ing of which “no effort, no sacrifice, must be 
spared ;”” and now the European plan of cam- 
paign, in cooperation with that which was to 
take place in America, gradually assumed shape. 
John Slidell was its originating and directing 
mind, and throughout it was marked by his 
peculiar characteristics. Mr. Slidell acted, of 
course, in cooperation with James M. Mason, 
and of Mr. Mason something will presently be 
said; but at this stage of proceedings Mr. Sli- 
dell came distinctly to the front. The field of 
final operations was in Great Britain ; but there 
Mr. Slidell, directing his campaign from Paris, 
was as immediately opposed to Mr. Adams as, 
in America, Lee was opposed to Hooker, and 
Meade or Grant to Johnston or Pemberton. 
The two men were in curious contrast; for 
while Mr. Adams was essentially a Puritan, Mr. 
Slidell certainly could by no possibility be so 
classified; Mr. Adams, simple, direct, cool and 
reticent, in manner chill and repellent, was in- 
capable of intrigue; Mr. Slidell, adroit and no 
less cool, friendly in manner and keenly observ- 
ant of men, was at intrigue an adept. 

It is not probable that either Mr. Slidell’s 
papers or those of Mr. Mason will ever see the 
light, and the fact is on every ground much to 


326 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


be regretted ; for Mr. Slidell now evinced great 
diplomatic skill. In the Senate of the United 
States he had, in the years immediately preceding 
the Rebellion, been accounted one of the ablest 
of the Southern leaders. Dr. Russell, of the 
“ Times,” met him in New Orleans in May, 1861, 
and was much impressed. ‘I rarely,” he then 
wrote, “have met a man whose features have 
a greater finesse and firmness of purpose than 
Mr. Slidell’s ; his keen gray eye is full of life ; 
his thin firmly set lips indicate resolution and 
passion. . . . He is not a speaker of note, nor 
a ready stump orator, nor an able writer ; but he - 
is an excellent judge of mankind, adroit, perse- 
vering and subtle, full of device, and fond of in- 
trigue ; one of those men who, unknown almost 
to the outer world, organizes and sustains a 
faction, and exalts it into the position of a party, 
— what is called here a ‘ wire-puller,’ ” In the 
European field Mr. Slidell now not only sus- 
tained the reputation he had gained in the United 
States Senate, but he also made good in all its 
details Dr. Russell’s pointed characterization. 
Having, in January, 1863, been a year on the 
ground, he had become familiar with it, skill- | 
fully ingratiating himself with influential circles 
in France, social as well as political. He ap- 
parently had access everywhere. In the utter 
absence of his correspondence or of any authen- 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 327 


tic memoir of him, the scheme he now devised can 
be traced only in outline; but a careful study 
of Mr. Adams’s papers, taken in connection 
with the public documents and what elsewhere 
appears, sufficiently discloses its main features. 
A far-reaching, formidable conception, it was 
well designed to accomplish the ends the Con- 
federate authorities had in view, and neither in 
its formation nor development did Mr. Slidell 
fail apparently to avail himself of any con- 
dition or circumstance which seemed likely to 
contribute to success. | 

That the scheme was large and partook of the 
character of a complicated intrigue, success in 
which depended on many contingencies and much 
individual codperation, is undeniable. Had it 
been otherwise, it would not have commended 
itself to John Slidell, but, in this case, it was 
so from necessity. The situation was neither 
compact nor simple. Men and events in Europe 
waited on events and men in America; and, from 
necessity himself located in France, the Con- 
federate envoy had to operate through French 
instrumentalities on England. The conditions 
were not of his selection. They were imposed 
upon him. The cards were dealt to him; it was 
. for him to play a hand in the game. He failed, 
and failed completely, partly because of the skill 
and conduct of his opponent, partly from the 


328 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


course of events beyond his power to control ; 
but the game was a great one, and it nowhere as 
yet appears that he played his hand otherwise 
than skillfully, and for all it was worth. 

In the present sketch, it is only possible to 
outline what the Confederate agents now at- 
tempted. While, in the absence of authentic 
information, much would in any case have to be 
surmised, space does not suffice for the full use 
of even such material as is now accessible. The 
ends Mr. Slidell had in view are obvious. They 
were twofold, —the recognition of the Con- 
federacy by England and France acting in uni- 
son, and the breaking of the blockade. To bring 
about the recognition of the Confederacy, he had 
to force the hand of the Palmerston-Russell min- 
istry through the action of a strongly sympa- 
thetic Parliament, compelling the resignation of 
Earl Russell as foreign secretary. To insure the 
consequent breaking of the blockade, in case 
recognition fell short of intervention, he had to 
prevent any interference by the English govern- 
ment with the Laird rams. To this end he 
was forced to resort to every conceivable de- 
vice calculated to cover up their ownership. 
His mind was fertile in expedients; and he had 
now assured himself of the efficient cooperation , 
of the Emperor, an immense point in favor of 
the Confederacy. Secure in this quarter, and 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 329 


with more than mere intimations of protection, 
he early in the year summoned Captain Bul- 
loch to Paris, and there arranged for the 
transfer of the rams to foreign ownership. 
Thereafter the Lairds were to know as their 
principals only the Messrs. Bravay & Co., a 
French firm, supposed to be acting for the 
Pasha of Egypt, or other unknown governments. 
The papers were formal and complete, the trans- 
fer legal in all its details; the real fact’ being 
that the Messrs. Bravay bought the ships for a 
specified amount, and then privately engaged to 
re-sell them beyond British jurisdiction for an- 
other amount, which should include a handsome 
commission for their house. The Laird Brothers 
themselves seem to have been imposed upon by 
this transaction. They, too, received a commis- 
sion, amounting to some £5000, on account of 
the transfer. 

This matter disposed of, Mr. Slidell next, 
through the house of Erlanger & Co., negotiated 
a Confederate cotton loan. Bonds to the amount 
of £3,000,000 were floated at ninety per cent, 
putting some twelve or thirteen millions of dol- 
lars in cash at the disposal of the Confederacy. 
The sinews of war were thus supplied. So far 
all went well. Much was accomplished ; but 
the last and most difficult portion of the far- 
reaching programme was yet to be carried out. 


330 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


An aggressive American policy was to be im- 
posed upon the British government, and recogni- 
tion compelled. Tothis end Earl Russell was to 
be driven to resign from the ministry. Here the 
adroit, secret management of Mr. Slidell came 
in sharp contrast with Mr. Mason’s bungling 
methods of procedure. In the skillful hands 
of the Confederate envoy at Paris, the Emperor 
and his ministers now seem to have become 
hardly more than manikins. The touch of Sli- 
dell could everywhere be traced. Two mem- 
bers of the English Parliament were at this 
juncture conspicuous for their advocacy of the 
Confederate cause,— John Arthur Roebuck, 
of the Sheffield “scum of Europe” speech of 
August, 1862; and W. S. Lindsay, of “this 
wicked, this worthless war ” speech at Chertsey. 
Curiously enough, Mr. Lindsay was a friend of 
Richard Cobden ; while Roebuck only a few 
years before had, with characteristic savageness 
of speech, denounced Napoleon III. as a “ per- 
jured despot.” None the less, in view of the 
great parliamentary campaign now in prepara- 
tion, Messrs. Lindsay and Roebuck, towards the 
end of June, 1863, were induced to go over to 
Paris, where they conferred freely with the Em- 
peror, dining at the Tuileries, and receiving 
assurances from him of the most outspoken char- 
acter. He professed himself ripe and eager for 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 331 


instant recognition; and, as both his guests as- 
severated, authorized them so to state in the 
House of Commons. Mr. Slidell nowhere ap- 
pears, but there can be little question of his 
agency behind the scene. Messrs. Roebuck and 
Lindsay did not go to Paris wholly on their own 
motion ; the Confederate envoy was marshaling 
his forces. 

Then came the parliamentary demonstration. 
The lead in this devolved on Mr. Roebuck. 
Like Mr. Adams in other years, Mr. Slidell was 
forced to do with what he had; but it is scarcely 
possible that he should not have felt grave mis- 
givings as respected the impulsive member for 
Sheffield. Nevertheless, on the 30th of June, 
that gentleman spoke in the Commons in sup- 
port of his motion that the government be in- 
structed “to enter into negotiations with the 
Great Powers of Europe for the purpose of ob- 
taining their codperation in the recognition ” of 
the Confederacy. Into the details of this de- 
bate, and the struggle that then took place in 
and out of Parliament, it is impossible here to 
enter. Mr. Adams watched events coolly, but 
not without anxiety. Throughout, understand- 
ing the situation well, he saw Slidell’s hand. 
The manipulation bespoke the master. The 
drive was at Earl Russell, and at one time 
his resignation was rumored; London was pla- 


332 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


carded with representations of the conjoined 
Confederate and British ensigns; fully three 
quarters of the House of Commons were avow- 
edly in sympathy with the Rebellion ; on the 4th 
of July, before a large company at Lord Wyn- 
ford’s table in London, Mr. Mason oracularly 
announced the absence of any doubt in his own 
mind that General Lee, then in reality shat- 
tered at Gettysburg, was in possession of 
Washington. 

Unfortunately for Mr. Slidell, most fortunately 
for Mr. Adams, Mr. Roebuck handled his cause 
wretchedly. He made to the House an avowal 
of amateur diplomacy which forced the ministry 
to array itself solidly against him, and brought 
upon him not only a measured rebuke from Pal- 
merston, but an exemplary castigation from John 
Bright. “The effect of Tuesday night’s de- 
bate,” wrote Mr. Adams to Mr. Seward, “ was 
very severe on Mr. Roebuck. His extraordinary 
attempts to influence the action of the House by 
the use of the authority of the Emperor of the 
French, as well as his presuming to make him- 
self the medium of an appeal to Parliament 
against the conduct of the ministry, have had 
the consequences which might naturally be ex- 
pected by any one acquainted with the English 
character. Thus it happened that Mr. Roe- 
buck, though addressing an assembly a great 








THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 333 


proportion of whom sympathized with him in 
his object, demolished his cause; whilst, on the 
other hand, Mr. Bright, even whilst running 
counter to the predisposition of most of his 
hearers, succeeded in extorting a general tribute 
of admiration of his eloquent and convincing 
reply.” This whole episode was one which Mr. 
Roebuck’s biographer afterwards thought it ex- 
pedient to pass over very lightly. Referring 
to the dinner at the Tuileries and the subse- 
quent debate, Mr. Leader says: ‘ The inevi- 
table result of amateur diplomacy followed. 
None of the parties to the interview agreed as 
to what actually took place. The Emperor dis- 
avowed, or declined to be bound by, the version 
Mr. Roebuck gave to the House of Commons of 
the conversation. ‘The amazement and amuse- 
ment, with which this mission to the ‘ perjured 
despot’ of a few years ago was received by the 
general public, were expressed in very pregnant 
sarcasm by speakers like Lord Robert Montagu 
and Mr. Bright;” so that, thoroughly discom- 
fited, Mr. Roebuck on the 18th of July “ very 
reluctantly’ withdrew his motion without in- 
sisting on a division. The carefully nurtured 
movement of Mr. Slidell had failed, and Earl 
Russell remained at the head of the British For- 
eign Office. 

But Mr. Slidell was none the less a danger- 


334 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ous opponent. He neglected no opportunity for 
attack, as Mr. Adams himself had occasion to 
realize. The episode of the Howell-Zerman let- 
ter now occurred. Altogether a very entertain- 
ing and characteristic incident, the letter referred 
to caused at the moment great commotion, and for ~ 
a brief space threatened gravely to compromise 
Mr. Adams; but the affair soon passed over, 
leaving no trace behind. Reference only can be 
made to it here. Mr. Slidell, however, did not 
fail to avail himself of it as a possible element 
of discord; and again the imperial manikins 
went through the requisite motions in obedience 
to the skillful touch of Russell’s adroit “ wire- 
puller.” Representations from the French For- 
eign Office were received at the State Depart- 
ment in Washington, indicating the grave 
displeasure of the Emperor at the spirit shown 
by Mr. Adams in regard to the former’s pro- 
ceedings in Mexico; and English newspaper 
correspondents from New York, of Confederate 
leanings, dilated on the latter’s “ extraordinary 
stupidity,” and the “really clever ability of all 
the rebel agents.” Again Mr. Slidell’s blow 
fell short; but it was well directed, and its 
origin was plain, at least to Mr. Adams. 

The first of the Laird rams took the water at 
Birkenhead on the 4th of July; Mr. Roebuck 
withdrew his motion for recognition on the 13th ; 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS _ 335 


on the 16th arrived news “ of a three days’ bat- 
tle at Gettysburg ;”’ and on the morning of the 
19th Mr. Adams wrote: “ When I came down 
I found on my table a private telegram, which, 
as usual, I opened with trepidation. It proved 
to be an announcement from Mr. Seward that 
Vicksburg had surrendered on the 4th. Thus 
has this great object been accomplished... . 
Our amiable friends, the British, who expected 
to hear of the capture of Washington, are cor- 
respondingly disappointed.” In London, the 
disappointment was, indeed, intense, and only 
exceeded by the surprise. That whole commu- 
nity — social, commercial, political — had set- 
tled down into a conviction that the Confederate 
arms were on the verge of a triumph not less 
decisive than brilliant, and that Lee, scarcely 
less of a hero in London than in Richmond, 
was in firm possession of the national capital. 
Why then, they argued, intervene? Had not 
the South worked out its problem for itself? 
The first revulsion of feeling was angry. ‘ Per- 
haps,’ wrote Mr. Adams, “the most curious 
phenomenon is to be seen in the London news- 
papers, which betray the profound disappoint- 
ment and mortification of the aristocracy at the 
result. . . . The incredulity is yet considerable. 
It is the strongest proof how deep-seated is the 
passion in the English breast... . The Eng- 


336 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


lish are almost up to the pitch of yielding ac- 
tive aid. Luckily, the aspect of affairs on the 
Continent [in the Polish insurrection] is so 
threatening that the government is disposed to 
act with much prudence and self-restraint as to 
embroiling us.” 

That the elaborate plan of operations of Mr. 
Slidell had now received a serious setback was 
apparent, but still there was one feature in it 
left. The Laird rams were French property, 
and, as such, rapidly nearing completion. A 
great card, they at least were still in reserve. 
They constituted a card also which might well 
win the game. Mr. Adams, on the other hand, 
not unduly elated by the tidings from across the 
Atlantic, watched his opponent coolly and wa- 
rily. He was at his best. Lord Russell — 
high-toned, well-intentioned, cautious, even hes- 
itating — held the key of the situation. It was 
he who must be worked upon. Fortunately 
Mr. Adams’s immediate opponent, Mr. Mason, 
having none of the finesse of Slidell, now played 
directly into the American minister’s hands. 
Mr. Mason was a thorough Virginian of the 
mid-century school, — “that old slave dealer,” 
as Cobden contemptuously described him. Ob- 
tuse, overbearing, and to the last degree self- 
sufficient and self-assertive, he was a poor in- 
strument with which to work. Still, he was 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 337 


there ; and Slidell was forced to use the tools he 
had. The whole effort of Mr. Mason now was, 
in the language of Mr. Adams, “to concen- 
trate the attacks upon Lord Russell, as if he 
were the chief barrier to the rebel progress in 
the cabinet. To that end the labors of the 
presses conducted by rebel sympathizers have 
been directed to casting odium upon his Lord- 
ship as acting too much under my influence. 
This is doing me far too much honor. . Lord 
Russell is too old and skillful a politician not to 
understand the necessity, for his own security, 
of keeping the minds of his countrymen quite 
free from all suspicion of his being superfluously 
courteous to any foreign power.” Mr. Adams 
then added, with a touch of humorous sarcasm 
not usual with him: “ From my observation of 
his [Russell’s] correspondence since I have 
been at this post, I should judge that he seldom 
erred in that particular.” 

Wiser than Mr. Mason, better informed, and 
far stronger in his simple directness than Mr. 
Slidell, Mr. Adams, unconsciously to himself, 
now braced up for the final and vital grapple. 
To that end he quietly assumed control of oper- 
ations. The instructions from Secretary Seward, 
already referred to, were on his table. They 
were to the last degree rasping and minatory. 
Mr. Adams put them in his pocket, and kept 


338 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


them there. He simply advised the secretary, 
in most courteous and diplomatic terms, that, 
as minister and on the spot, he thought he 
understood the men and the situation best, and 
accordingly he would assume the responsibility 
of acting on his own judgment and as circum- 
stances might seem to require. Most fortu- 
nately, there was no Atlantic cable then. 

The days now passed rapidly on, and the 
rams were as rapidly made ready for sea. In 
the language of Mr. Gladstone the year before, 
the rebels were ‘ making, it appears, a navy.” 
Very courteous but very firm in his communica- 
tions with Earl Russell, Mr. Adams carefully 
abstained from anything which could be con- 
strued into a threat. Outwardly his communi- 
cations breathed the most abiding faith in the 
good intentions of the government; while in 
private he impressed upon Mr. Cobden his 
sense of “the very grave nature of this case,” 
and his conviction ‘that it would end in war 
sooner or later.” Then he added in his diary: 
“¢ Mr. Cobden is really in earnest in his efforts, 
but the drift is too much for him.” Through 
Mr. Milner Gibson, Mr. Cobden was, however, 
in close communication with the cabinet. 

Mr. Adams next visited Scotland, for it was 
now August, and the dead season in London. 
He was there the guest of Mr. Edward illice, 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS _ 339 


as also was Mr. Mason at about the same time. 
His host was a very old man, and a Confederate 
sympathizer. “Mr. Ellice,” Mr. Adams wrote, 
“talked as fast as ever, occasionally running 
full butt into American affairs. I met him 
there with profound silence. This is my only 
safeguard.” A few days later Mr. Adams was 
the guest of the Duke of Argyll, at Inverary. 
The Argylls throughout those trying times were 
true well-wishers to the Union; but it shows 
how well Mr. Slidell had covered up the Con- 
federate tracks, that the Argylls now were al- 
most persuaded that the rams were really being 
built on French account; and only a few days 
before, the Duchess had intimated as much in 
a letter to Mr. Sumner. The Duke was a mem- 
ber of the cabinet, and Mr. Adams availed him- 
self of this opportunity to impress on his grace 
his sense of the situation “as grave and critical ;”’ 
and he further intimated that his “ instructions 
on the subject [were] far more stringent than 
[he] had yet been disposed to execute.” That 
evening the Duke was much absorbed in letter- 
writing, and Mr. Adams could not help wonder- 
ing whether the foreign secretary was among 
those to whom the letters were addressed. 
Meanwhile Earl Russell was in great per- 
turbation of mind. An honest, high-minded 
gentleman, he wished to do right ; he was vexed 


340 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


by the course of the. rebel emissaries, and mor- 
tified as well as irritated by the recollection of 
his treatment in the case of the Alabama; but 
he was staggered by the confident assertion of 
French ownership of the vessels, which the 
Lairds corroborated, — perhaps not dishonestly, 
—and moreover the law,as expounded in the 
Court of Exchequer, was plainly against inter- 
ference. If it acted, the government must do 
so on grounds of prerogative, against public 
opinion, regardless of the advice of counsel, and 
prepared to be heavily mulcted by a jury. The 
situation was certainly trying; and yet it is 
now manifest that Earl Russell earnestly desired 
to do his duty to the crown, and whatever inter- 
national obligations demanded. Like Shake- 
speare’s noble Moor, he was, “being wrought 
upon, perplexed in the extreme.” 

Assuredly, so far as Mr. Adams was concerned, 
Lord Russell was now sufficiently ‘ wrought 
upon.” At six o’clock on the morning of Sep- 
tember 3d, being, as he did not fail at the time 
to note, the thirty-fourth anniversary of his 
wedding day, Mr. Adams, just from the West- 
moreland lake region, found himself on the 
steps of his house in London. He was anxious. 
The government could not be got to act, and 
the rams were now almost ready to steam down 
the Mersey, — of course, like the Alabama, only 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 341 


on a trial trip! “After long wavering and 
hesitation,” he wrote, “there are signs that the 
ministry will not adopt any preventive policy. 
Their moral feebleness culminates in cowardice, 
which acts like the greatest daring. It precipi- 
tates a conflict. My duty is therefore a difficult 
one. Without indulging in menace, I must be 
faithful to my country in giving warning of its 
sense of injury. Nothing must be left undone 
that shall appear likely to avert the danger. To 
that end I addressed a note to Lord Russell at 
once. The attack on Charleston [Gilmore’s 
‘swamp angels’] is going on with great vigor, 
and the cries of the Richmond press indicate 
success. Barring the conduct of foreign pow- 
ers, I should say the rebellion would collapse 
before New Year’s, but the pestilent malignity 
of the English and the insidious craft of Napo- 
leon are not yet exhausted.” 

The diary written at the time tells what now 
ensued far more effectively than would be possi- 
ble for any biographer : — 

“ Briday, 4th September : — A notice from Mr. 
Dudley that the war vessel was about. to depart 
compelled me to address another and stronger 
note of solemn protest against the permission of 
this proceeding by the government. I feared, 
however, that it would be of little avail, and my 
prognostications proved but too true; for I re- 


342 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


ceived at four o’clock a note announcing that 
the government could find no evidence upon 
which to proceed in stopping the vessel. This 
affected me deeply. I clearly foresee that a 
collision must now come of it. I must not, how- 
ever, do anything to accelerate it; and yet must 
maintain the honor of my country with proper 
spirit. The issue must be made up before the 
world on its merits. The prospect is dark for 
poor America. Her trials are not yet over. 
Luckily the difficulties do not all come together. 
A telegram received to-night announces the 
destruction of Fort Sumter, and the shelling of 
that pestilent nest of heresy, Charleston. This 
will produce a great effect in Europe. It may 
go so far as to save us from imminent danger 
pressing both here and in France. I hada 
visit from Colonel Bigelow Lawrence, who is on 
his way to America; but I fear I was not ina 
mood for easy talk.” 

The following day it was that, after a night 
of anxious reflection over what yet might by 
possibility be done, he wrote and forwarded to 
Earl Russell, then in Scotland, the dispatch of 
September 5th, which contains his single utter- 
ance since borne in memory. It was the dis- 
patch containing the expression afterwards so 
famous: ‘It would be superfluous in me to 
point out to your lordship that this is war.” 


THE ALABAMA AND THE LAIRD RAMS 3438 


The heavy sense of responsibility and utter 
dreariness of spirit under which he penned this 
dispatch, almost unique in diplomatic corre- 
spondence, — exactly fitting to the occasion, — 
appears in his corresponding diary record made 
the evening of the day he transmitted it: — 

“ Saturday, 5th September :— My thoughts 
turned strongly upon the present crisis, and the 
difficulty of my task. My conclusion was, that 
another note was to be addressed to Lord Rus- 
sell to-day. So I drew one, which I intended 
only to gain time previous to the inevitable re- 
sult. I have not disclosed to Lord Russell those 
portions of my instructions which describe the 
policy to be adopted by the government at home, 
because that course seemed to me likely to cut off 
all prospect of escape. Contenting myself with 
intimating [their] existence, I decided upon 
awaiting further directions. This will give a 
month. After I had sent the note, I received one 
from his lordship, in answer to my two previous 
ones of Thursday and Friday, saying that the 
subject of them was receiving the earnest and 
anxious consideration of the government. There 
‘is, then, one chance left, and but one. 
“Tuesday, 8th September : — In the ‘ Morning 
_ Post’ there was a short article announcing that 
the government had decided on detaining the 
vessels, in order to try the merits in court. It 


344 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


had an official aspect ; and yet I could scarcely 
put faith in it, while I had no notice myself. 
Later in the day, however, a brief notification 
came from Lord Russell to the effect that orders 
had been given to prevent their departure. I 
know not that even in the Trent case I felt a 
greater relief.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 
THE YEARS OF FRUITION 


More than twenty-three years later, referring 
to the events just narrated, of which he was very 
competent to speak, James Russell Lowell said 
of Mr. Adams:—‘“ None of our generals in 
the field, not Grant himself, did us better or 
more trying service than he in his forlorn out- 
post of London. Cavour did hardly more for 
Italy. 

“* Peace hath her victories 
Not less renowned than war.’ ” 

Certainly no victory ever won by Grant was 
more decisive — and Grant’s victories were nu- 
merous, and many of them most decisive — than 
that won by Mr. Adams, and recorded so quietly 
in the diary entry just quoted in full. There is 
no more unmistakable gauge of the importance 
of any movement made or result gained in 
warfare than the quotations of the stock ex- 
change. The deadly character of the blow 
then inflicted on the Southern cause was imme- 
diately read in the stock list. During the week 
ending the 27th of August, the bonds of Mr. 


346 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Slidell’s Confederate cotton loan had been ac- 
tive at 79; during the week ending the 10th of 
September, they were lifeless at 70. The rams 
were officially detained on the 9th of Septem- 
ber; they were seized by the government, and 
the broad arrow affixed, a month later, on 
the 9th of October. That action extinguished 
hope. The bonds then fell to 65. On the 9th 
of July they had been quoted at 99, having 
previously risen to a slight premium; the news 
of the repulse of Lee at Gettysburg depressed 
them only two points, to 97, at which figure 
they stood firmly. Then followed the fall of 
Vicksburg, the loss of the control of the Missis- 
sippi, and the withdrawal of the Roebuck mo- 
tion in Parliament; all which together broke the 
price to 87. In other words, the combined mili- 
tary and parliamentary disasters of the Confed- 
eracy during July affected the barometer thirteen 
points; while the detention and seizure of the 
two vessels, still, in pursuance of a solemn farce, 
designated El Tousson and El Monassir, reduced 
it fourteen points, notwithstanding that the mili- 
tary news then received from America was re- 
garded as distinctly favorable to the Confederacy. 
That this should have been so seems inexplica- 
ble, until it is remembered that the stoppage of 
the rams meant more, a great deal more, than 
the continuance of the blockade, — it meant the 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 347 


continuance of peaceful relations between the 
United States and the great maritime powers of 
Europe. The departure of the rams from the 
Mersey, it was well understood, would involve 
serious complications between the United States 
and Great Britain, resulting almost inevitably in 
the recognition of the Confederacy by the latter 
country acting in unison with France. This 
had been confidently anticipated ; and the anti- 
cipation buoyed up the cotton loan. When at 
last the broad arrow was actually affixed to the 
unfinished ironclads, the sympathizers with the 
Confederacy realized what that meant. The 
Union need no longer apprehend any foreign 
complication, while the Rebellion was obviously 
sinking under the ever-increasing pressure 
brought to bear upon it. It was this unexpressed 
conclusion which was clearly read in the quota- 
tions of the cotton loan. A decisive Union 
advantage had at last been secured. 

Already badly deranged by the parliamen- 
tary fiasco of July, followed by the military re- 
verses in Pennsylvania and on the Mississippi, 
Mr. Slidell’s diplomatic programme — his great 
European campaign, so well conceived, so far- 
reaching, so carefully matured, so warily con- 
ducted — had now come to naught on the vital 
issue. A great lover of cards, Mr. Slidell was 
an adept in their use. He rarely played save to 


348 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


win. But this, the great game of his life, was 
now over; and he left the table a loser. Prob- 
ably his knowledge of the well-known puritanic 
traits of his opponent did not serve to alleviate 
the bitterness of defeat. 

As for Mr. Adams, though hardly a note of 
exultation could be detected in his diary, much 
less in his correspondence, he did not fail to 
realize the momentous importance of what had 
now taken place. Describing the course of 
events in a familiar letter written a few days 
later to his brother-in-law, Edward Everett, he 
said: ‘ Friday [September 4th] I gave up all 
for lost, and made preparation for the catas- 
trophe. On Saturday I got news of a prospect 
of achange. And yesterday [Tuesday] there 
came a notice that the departure of the two 
vessels (for the other had been launched in the 
interval) had been prevented. This is rather 
close shaving. Even now I scarcely realize the 
fact of our escape.” 

Notice of the detention of the rams reached 
Mr. Adams on the 8th of September, 1863. On 
the 18th of July, fourteen months before, Wil- 
liam E. Forster had hurried to his house in great 
distress, bringing a telegram, just received from 
Queenstown and printed in the “ Times,” an- 
nouncing that ‘‘ General McClellan, with all his 
army, was negotiating for a capitulation.’ ‘The 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 349 


news,” wrote Mr. Adams, “spread like wildfire, 
and many eagerly caught at it as true. The 
evident satisfaction taken in the intelligence is 
one of our delectations. It almost equals the 
days of Bull Run.” Things had then gone 
steadily from bad to worse: Pope’s ridiculous 
fiasco ; the disasters in Tennessee and Kentucky ; 
the Confederate invasion of Maryland ; the battle 
of Fredericksburg ; the repulse of Chancellors- 
ville; the failures before Vicksburg. At last, 
in June, 1863, the Army of Virginia crossed the 
Potomac and fairly carried the war into the 
free States. On July 16th of that year, tidings 
reached London of severe but indecisive fight- 
ing at Gettysburg; yet so strong was the 
tendency of feeling developed under the news 
of the invasion, that it infected even friendly 
Americans. “Mr. Lampson was a full be- 
liever that by this time Washington must be 
taken; and when, the other day, I exposed 
the absurdity of it to him, I saw that he was not 
convinced. This comes from what may be de- 
nominated the atmospheric pressure of opin- 
ion as generated in England by the London 
‘Times.’ It is difficult even for me to put 
myself above it.” This was on July 17th. 
Then the day broke in one great burst of light. 

Exactly six weeks later, the European victory 
was won. The tribulation of fourteen months 


350 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


had come to an end, and thenceforth all went 
well. Mr. Adams had now established his own 
position, as well as the position of his country, 
at the Court of St. James; nor was either again 
challenged. ‘The adversary even abandoned 
the field; for, less than two weeks after the 
detention of the rams was officially announced, 
Mr. Mason, in a not undignified letter ad- 
dressed to Earl Russell, shook the dust of inhos- 
pitable England from his feet and withdrew to 
more sympathetic Paris. ‘ The ‘ Times,’ ” wrote 
Mr. Adams to Secretary Seward, briefly noti- 
cing the occurrence, “ distinctly admits this to be 
a relief to the government; though I confess 
myself at a loss to understand how he annoyed 
them. The selection of Mr. Mason to come 
here was an unfortunate one from the outset. 
I can scarcely imagine an agency to have been 
more barren of results.” He was not heard 
from again. Remaining in Europe, sometimes 
in France and sometimes in England, until the 
close of the war, Mr. Mason then returned to 
his native Virginia by way of Canada, and, 
broken in spirit as in fortune, there died in 1871. 
More fortunate than his Virginian colleague, in 
that he had been shrewder in the transfer be- 
times of a share of his worldly possessions 
from the Confederacy to Europe, Mr. Slidell 
never returned to America. He was not again 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 351 


heard of in the field of diplomacy, except, later 
in 1868, in connection with the summary sei- 
zure by the Emperor Napoleon of various war 
vessels, which that potentate had about a 
twelvemonth before encouraged the Confederates 
to contract for at Bordeaux and Nantes. His 
English defeat had followed Mr. Slidell into 
France. He never emerged from its shadow ; 
but, after the final suppression of the Rebellion, 
transferring his residence to England, he there 
died in 1871, surviving his brother envoy, with 
whom his name will always be so closely asso- 
ciated, by only three months. 

Having in remembrance the judgment of the 
Court of Exchequer in the Alexandra case, the 
British ministry had no hope of obtaining a fa- 
vorable verdict as the outcome of a suit brought 
against its agents for the detention of the rams. 
It was futile for it to hope to prove ‘a valid 
seizure for a valid cause of forfeiture.” It only 
remained to settle the matter on the best terms 
attainable. This finally was done ; and, no other 
purchaser being found, the two rams the next 
year passed into the hands of the government, 
and were named the Wivern and the Scorpion. 
The sum paid for them was £225,000. 

Mr. Adams remained in London until the 
spring of 1868, when, the war being long over, 
he insisted on the acceptance of his resignation. 


352 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


Meanwhile, after he had achieved his great suc- 
cess in. securing the detention of the rams, his 
position as respects the authorities at Washing- 
ton was greatly changed. ‘There too, as-well as 
in Great Britain, it became assured. His expe- 
rience in this matter greatly resembled, indeed, 
that of certain generals in the field during the 
civil war. It will be remembered how they 
were at first constantly hampered and thwarted 
by interference from Washington. While in 
this respect Mr. Adams had little, comparatively 
speaking, to complain of, and while his chief in 
the State Department never failed to give hitn 
full rein and undeviating support, yet Secretary 
Seward was wholly without diplomatic expe- 
rience himself, and, moreover, set a politician’s 
undue estimate on the importance of indirect 
means and influences. Accordingly, until Mr. 
Adams had thoroughly established himself in 
his position by success in stopping the rams, he 
was encumbered with a great deal of assistance 
with which he would gladly have dispensed. 
Secretary Seward failed to realize how much 
the irregularly accredited envoy tends to dis- 
eredit the regularly accredited minister. 
Fortunately, there were two sides to this an- 
noyance ; for his opponents seem to have suf- 
fered from it quite as much, or more even, than 
Mr. Adams. In September, 1862, for instance, 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 353 


Captain Bulloch wrote thus from Liverpool to 
Secretary Mallory: “I do not hesitate to say 
that embarrassment has already been occasioned 
by the number of persons from the South who 
represent themselves to be agents of the Con- 
federate States government. ‘There are men so 
constituted as not to be able to conceal their 
connection with any affairs which may by chance 
add to their importance, and such persons are 
soon found out and drawn into confessions and 
statements by gossiping acquaintances, to the 
serious detriment of the service upon which they 
are engaged.’’ The unfortunate experience of 
Mr. Slidell, as the result of the amateur diplo- 
macy he initiated between the two itinerant 
members of the Commons, Messrs. Lindsay and 
Roebuck, and the Tuileries, has already been 
described. 

During the early years of his mission, indeed 
until the autumn of 1863, Great Britain was, 
for reasons which at once suggest themselves, 
the special field of American diplomatic activity, 
and the minister at London was at last driven 
to active remonstrance. These emissaries were 
of four distinct types: (1) the roving diplomat, 
irregularly accredited by the State Department ; 
(2) the poaching diplomat, accredited to one 
government, but seeking a wider field of activity 
elsewhere; (3) the volunteer diplomat, not ac- 


354 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


credited at all, but in his own belief divinely 
commissioned at that particular juncture to 
enlighten foreign nations generally, and Great 
Britain in particular; and (4) the special agent, 
sent out by some department of the government 
to accomplish, if possible, a particular object. 
Messrs. J. M. Forbes and W. H. Aspinwall, 
already referred to as sent out by the Navy De- 
partment in 1863, to buy the rams, were of the 
last description, as also was Mr. William M. 
Evarts ; and they were men of energy, tact, and 
discretion. Accordingly they had the good sense 
to confine themselves to the work they were in 
England to do, and did not indulge in a per- 
nicious general activity. With his rare tact, 
shrewd judgment, and quick insight into men, 
Thurlow Weed also made himself of use both in 
Great Britain and on the Continent, and rela- 
tions of a most friendly and lasting character 
grew up between him and Mr. Adams. Of 
other diplomats, roving, poaching, and volun- 
teer, Mr. Adams, as is evident from his diary 
records, had grave and just cause of complaint; 
they were officious, they meddled, and they were 
to the last degree indiscreet. They were pecul- 
iarly addicted to the columns of the ‘ Times,” 
in which their effusions appeared periodically ; 
but not always did they confine themselves to 
ill-considered letter-writing, or mere idle talk. 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 355 


This annoyance reached its climax in the 
spring of 1863. Special emissaries of the Trea- 
sury and of the State Department then arrived 
in quick succession, and naturally the news- 
paper correspondents of Confederate leanings got 
scent of their missions, and set to work to make 
trouble. One of them, writing from New York 
to the London “Standard” over the signature 
of ** Manchester,” spoke of Messrs. Forbes and 
Aspinwall as “delegates ” about to be followed 
by eight other men of note, “one being Mr. 
Evarts, all of whom would regulate our affairs 
abroad, and Mr. Adams is ordered to be their 
mouthpiece.” This correspondent then pro- 
‘ceeded as follows: “[Mr. Evarts] is a particu- 
lar friend of W. H. Seward. The latter, it 
is well known, has lost all confidence in Mr. 
Adams, who, but for his name, would have been 
recalled long ago. Mr. Seward expresses him- 
self on all occasions, early and late, that the real 
source of bad feeling in England towards the 
North has been caused by the extraordinary 
stupidity of Mr. Adams, our minister, and the 
really clever ability of all the rebel agents.” 
This particular letter Mr. Adams never saw 
until his attention was called to it by an em- 
phatic private denial from Mr. Seward of the 
statements contained in it. None the less, 
though outwardly he gave no sign, the regularly 


356 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


accredited minister to Great Britain chafed 
sorely in private over these efforts at advice and 
supervision. ‘It cannot be denied,” he wrote, 
‘“‘that ever since I have been here the almost 
constant interference of government agents of 
all kinds has had the effect, however intended, 
of weakening the position of the minister. Most 
of all has it happened in the case of Mr. Evarts, 
whom the newspapers here have all insisted to 
have been sent to superintend my office-in all 
questions of international law. I doubt whether 
any minister has ever had so much of this kind 
of thing to contend with.” Mr. Adams prob- 
ably had grounds for this doubt. Meanwhile, 
on the other hand, few foreign ministers at any 
time, and certainly none ever from the United 
States, occupied such a difficult and responsible 
position at so critical a period. 

After the stoppage of the rams, Mr. Adams 
suffered no more annoyance from this source 
than did General Grant from interference of a 
similar kind after the fall of Vicksburg; and 
from the same reason. But, as a mere function 
of state, the position of minister had no at- 
traction for him; indeed, its duties were dis- 
tasteful. He yearned to be at home in New 
England, referring continually to his prolonged 
residence in Europe as an “exile.” Yet in 
fact no American representative, before or 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 357 


since, has ever enjoyed a_ position equal to 
that held by him during the remaining four 
years of his service. He had, under trying 
circumstances, won the confidence of all parties. 
The cause and country he represented had, 
moreover, been brilliantly successful; and cer- 
tainly not less in Great Britain than elsewhere 
success counts for much. 

The correspondence in relation to the so-called 
Alabama claims was renewed in 1864, and ecar- 
ried on at great length through 1865, Earl Rus- 
sell being still the foreign secretary. It at- 
tracted much attention, both in Europe and at 
home, and the conduct of his share in it greatly 
enhanced the reputation of Mr. Adams. Sub- 
sequently it became the basis of the American 
case in the Geneva arbitration. 

Later, and after the close of the civil war, 
occurred the “ Fenian” disturbances in Canada 
and Great Britain, throwing on the London 
legation a good deal of business the reverse 
of agreeable. The blowing up by dynamite of 
historic public edifices as well as police stations, 
and the murdering of the constabulary while in 
the. performance of its duties as such, are 
criminal acts, even when committed in Europe 
by those naturalized in America. This purely 
prosaic and matter-of-fact view of the case did 
not, however, during the years 1865-67, altogether 


358 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


commend itself to the Irish-American political 
element. Consequently, though in almost every 
case he succeeded .by judicious intercession in 
mitigating the severity of the British law, Mr. 
Adams did not entirely escape censure at 
home. In certain quarters, never conspicuous 
for coolness of judgment or moderation in 
speech, it was assumed that a truly sympathetic 
American diplomatic representative would now 
make his presence in London known by demon- 
strations not less frequent than vociferous. He 
would, in fact, claim for naturalized American 
citizens the inalienable right, subject to some 
not very material limitations, to do, in the Brit- 
ish Isles at least, anything, anywhere, and to 
any one. It is almost needless to say that Mr. 
Adams shared to a very limited degree only, if 
indeed at all, in this view cf what was incum- 
bent upon him. His dissent also extended to 
the manner as well as the matter. Hence the 
indignation aroused. One ardent Congressional 
representative, indeed, evincing, perhaps, a cer- 
tain confusion in his ideas of constitutional law, 
went so far as to propose the formal impeach- 
ment of the American minister near the Court 
of St. James. This, however, was a mere pass- 
ing episode, scarcely deserving of mention; and, 
as such, was wholly lost sight of -in the general 
recognition afforded Mr. Adams, on both sides 
of the Atlantic, as his term drew to its close. 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 359 


His own record of the long and interesting 
experiences he went through, social as well as 
political, was detailed and graphic ; and of its 
character no better idea could, perhaps, be given 
than through his description of certain occur- 
rences which, judging by the detail of his record, 
seem most to have interested him. One of 
these was an attendance at the Sunday services 
held by Mr. Spurgeon, the famous evangelist 
preacher. Thither curiosity took Mr. Adams, 
himself always a regular church attendant, on 
the 13th of October, 1861, he having then been 
five months only in England. 

“Sunday, 13th October, 1861:—A clear, 
fine day throughout, a thing quite rare at this 
season. Mrs. Adams and I took the opportunity 
to execute a plan we have entertained for some 
time back, which was to go across the river to 
attend divine service at the great tabernacle at 
which the most popular preacher in London 
officiates. We were obliged to go an hour in 
advance of the service in order to get a chance 
of seats. As it was, crowds were in waiting at 
the doors. A hint had been given to me that, 
by special application at the side door, the police 
officer might admit us. There is a magic power 
in liveried servants in similar cases here, and we 
found ourselves immediately in an immense hall, 
surrounded with two deep tiers of gallery. The 


360 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


seats, however, though empty at the moment, all 
belonged to individuals by ticket just as rigidly 
as if it was a theatre, and I was beginning to 
despair, when a civil, plain-looking man met us 
and offered two seats in the front gallery, vacant 
by reason of the non-attendance of two of his 
daughters, which I accepted with pleasure. This 
position gave us the opportunity to see the entire 
audience after it was assembled, and the slow 
but the steady process of accumulation, until, 
from top to bottom, including the very highest 
point under the roof, not an empty place was 
to be found, not excepting any of the aisles or 
passageways. It is estimated that the house 
can hold seven thousand people at the lowest. 
The spectacle was striking, for the people were 
evidently almost all of the pure middle class of 
England, which constitutes the real strength of 
the nation, and yet which in religion relucts at 
the inanimate vacuity of the ministrations in the 
Established Church, and grasps at something 
more vigorous and earnest than forms. Mr. 
Spurgeon is a short, thickset man, thoroughly 
English in matter and manner, yet without 
physical coarseness, so common an attendant of 
the frame after youth. There was no pulpit. 
He stood on a raised platform under the first 
gallery, projecting sufficiently to admit of several 
rows of seats behind, and between flights of steps 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 361 


on each side which led down to the body of the 
hall. <A slight railing ran before him, which 
continued on the stairs to the bottom. A table 
at one side, and a chair. This was the appear- 
ance. The service was in the usual simple form 
of the dissenting churches. A rather short 
prayer. The hymns were read aloud, and sung 
by the whole congregation without accompani- 
ment. Then the sermon from the text 3 Ephe- 
sians xv.,—‘ Of whom the whole family in 
heaven and earth is named.’ He discoursed 
upon this with great fluency, moving from time 
to time to one or the other side. His topics were 
drawn from the three significant words of his 
text, the link word, as he ealled it, which was 
Christ, as referred to from the antecedent in the 
verse before ; then the key-word, which was the 
family ; and lastly the password, which comprised 
all its members. Everything else, however, was 
grouped around the single centre of the family ; 
the head and father of the members, living and 
dead, recognized by the name of Christ, no mat- 
ter what the superadded denomination. There 
was breadth and grandeur in his images, not a 
little heightened by the mode of singing before- 
hand a Wesleyan hymn developing the idea of 
the solemn march of the host, never breaking its 
ranks even in crossing the narrow river that sep- 
arates this and the other world. The family con- 


362 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


tinued one, going on to its reward for its faithful 
devotion to its chief. And, although professing 
himself a Baptist and a Calvinist, he disavowed 
all narrowness of sectarian bigotry, and com- 
pared the effect of the distinctions between them 
to that produced by the prenomen among bro- 
thers and sisters. His division was lucid, and 
his treatment remarkably effective, of a few 
simple ideas. For there was no very character- 
istic thought nor novel reasoning. His power 
consisted in sympathy with the current of human 
feeling in all ages on the solemn topic of moral 
responsibility to a higher power both here and 
hereafter. During his whole address, the atten- 
tion was profound, and the emotion at times con- 
siderable. How singular is the sway of the hu- 
man voice when guided by a master of its tones! 
As the great multitude finally poured itself in a 
quiet, orderly channel out of the edifice, I could 
not but speculate upon the new view of English 
society that had here been opened to me. Here 
is visible the kernel that cracked the hard outer 
shell of conventional formalities in the days of 
the Reformation. Here lie, but partially awak- 
ened, the elements of moral revolution whenever 
the corruption of the privileged classes shall 
have reached a point that renders submission no 
longer tolerable.! This crowded auditory is the — 


1“ When the intelligence came that the emancipation policy 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 363 


standing: protest of the city of London against 
the monotonous vacuity of the teaching of the 
Established Church. Well it will be for the 
safety of all if they never fall into hands more 
dangerous than those of Mr. Spurgeon. I con- 
fess I was very agreeably disappointed in this 
visit.” 

Another entry, and of a gathering of a wholly 
different character, was that of Wednesday, 
February, 1865. Mr. Adams had then -been 
nearly four years in England, and, owing to the 
delicate health of a daughter, the physicians 
recommended for her a winter in Italy. Un- 
able to leave his post, for those were the closing 
days of the civil war, Mr. Adams accompanied 
his family only to Folkestone. It was a soft 


of the President was confirmed by the supplementary procla- 
mation of January Ist, the demonstrations of support [in Eng- 
land] were greater than had been known for any movement 
since the uprising for the abolition of the duties on corn... . 
On a Sunday Spurgeon thus prayed before his congregation of 
many thousands: ‘Now, O God! we turn our thoughts across 
the sea to the terrible conflict of which we knew not what to 
say; but now the voice of freedom shows where is right. We 
pray Thee, give success to this glorious proclamation of liberty 
which comes to us from across the waters. We much feared 
that our brethren were not in earnest, and would not come to 
this. Bondage and the lash can claim no sympathy from us. 
God bless and strengthen the North; give victory to their arms!’ 
The immense congregation responded to this invocation in the 
midst of the prayer with a fervent amen.” Rhodes, History 
of the United States, iv. 350, 351. 


364 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


spring day, with light vapor clouds; a gentle 
breeze from the west slightly rippled the sur- 
face of the Channel as he watched the reced- 
ing packet from the head of the pier. ‘The 
steamer grew smaller and smaller, and I re- 
flected that I was alone, and now — what to 
do next? ” The solitary house in London did 
not seem attractive, and Mr. Adams gradually 
bethought himself of Canterbury. He had 
never visited Canterbury. So he resolved to 
get all the benefit he could from his trip by 
seeing one more cathedral town. Of the cathe- 
dral itself he wrote: ‘“* Although not perhaps so 
full of striking effects as some of the others, 
there are parts which are very imposing, and 
which become far more so to the visitor from 
the historical associations with which they are 
connected. The greatest of all is what is called 
Becket’s corona. It was the blundering passion 
of Henry which made the fortune of the edifice 
where the crime of Becket’s murder was commit- 
ted. For many generations following, the reli- 
gious heart of the Christian community continued 
to respond to the call made upon it in the name 
of the slaughtered martyr. Here was the shrine 
which pilgrims came from afar to visit, and to 
cover with the most costly of presents. The 
counter-clap of the Reformation came to knock 
it all away, so that nothing now remains but the 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 365 


stone to mark the site where the act was com- 
mitted, and the corona built up in his honor. 
Here, too, is the effigy of Edward, the Black 
Prince, in brass, in remarkable preservation, — 
a slight built, youthful figure, considerably below 
the medium size. Henry the Fourth and his 
second wife are also here. There is a spacious 
chapter house, and cloisters which go all round 
the square. How imposing all this must have 
been five centuries ago! There are plenty of 
monuments of archbishops down to Cardinal 
Pole, the last of the Catholics, whose sarco- 
phagus, as compared with the rest, sufficiently 
shows the change that the public mind had 
undergone. Nobody resisted the eighth Henry’s 
ruthless desecration of Becket’s holy shrine. In 
this day the great cathedral finds itself sadly 
out of place. The archbishop lives in London, 
and seldom pays it more than a formal visit. 
The town is a quiet, little, mean-looking one, 
strangely contrasting with the stately and spa- 
cious central structure. Its general effect is not 
equal to that of York or Lincoln, or even Dur- 
ham. 

“Having thus accomplished my object, I re- 
turned to the Fountain Hotel to dine. A 
quiet, country inn; but clean and good, and 
without any pretension. Having my evening 
on my hands, I inquired of the waiter if there 


366 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


was any public amusement here. He answered 
that a concert of the Catch Club was to be held 
a few doors from there. It would be very full, 
and admission could be had only through mem- 
bers. But if I wished to go, Mr. Fine, the land- 
lord, who was a member, would pass me. I went, 
and paid my shilling entrance fee without having 
occasion to name Mr. Fine. The spectacle to 
which I was introduced was curious, and to me 
novel in this country. It was a good-sized hall, 
at one end of which was a platform for the per- 
formers, and at the other a gallery. The women 
congregated in both places, where they sat apart 
by themselves. On one side, and close to the 
wall, was a small box, in which sat the chairman 
and other officers. Along the body of the hall 
were three rows of tables, with chairs on both 
sides of each. Here were the men of Canter- 
bury, I should think fair specimens of the middle 
class of the small towns. Every man had either 
a pipe or a cigar, smoking all the evening, and 
before him was a glass of spirits and hot water, 
which was supplied from waiters carried around 
by servants. These were renewed as often as 
emptied, each one costing sixpence, which was 
paid on the spot. As I can take neither of 
these luxuries, my position was singular, but it 
elicited no remark. The music was composed 
of two catches for four voices, two solos, two or 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 367 


three concerted pieces for instruments, and three 
ballads by Mr. McKnew, a ‘nigger’ minstrel fan- 
tastically dressed. Among them all, the latter 
incontestably carried away the honors. He was 
applauded noisily, and each time called back to 
sing again. But he never repeated. The buf- 
foonery was poor, occasionally bordering the 
coarse. A burlesque of a speech of thanks was 
sheer nonsense. Yet everything was accepted 
as droll, laughed at, and boisterously approved. 
Yet in the midst of this steam of hot liquor 
there was no disorder or irregularity of deport- 
ment. The general aspect was gravity. The 
conversation was from neighbor to neighbor. 
No voices raised high. No appearance of undue 
excitement. The brandy or rum or gin was per- 
ceptible on the surface of the outer cuticle, but 
it rather dulled than stimulated the eye. These 
people were evidently happy after their fashion. 
But that fashion, before it was over, became so 
intolerable to me that I was obliged to take my 
leave of the stifling atmosphere at the cost of 
missing the latter part of the entertainment. I 
suppose that this is about the summit of pleasure 
during the winter season to English people of 
this type. I knew they drank freely, but I had 
no idea smoking was so universal among them. 
Went back to my hotel, and soon to bed; but 
I slept very partially, hearing at intervals the 


368 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


howling of the wind, as well as the raindrops 
beating against the window, and I congratulated 
myself on having expedited the travelers.” 

In curious contrast with the foregoing was an 
account of a breakfast at Mr. Gladstone’s, some 
fifteen months later. Mr. Gladstone was then 
chancellor of the exchequer and leader of the 
House of Commons in the brief Russell ministry, 
following the death of Lord Palmerston. The 
Colonel Holmes referred to was Oliver Wendell 
Holmes, Jr., then fresh from the army after the 
close of the Rebellion; now (1899) the Chief 
Justice of Massachusetts. In June, the London 
season was at its height; and the Russell min- 
istry, in consequence of adverse majorities in 
the Commons on the reform bill it had intro- 
duced, resigned on the 26th of the month. 

“Thursday, Tth June, 1866: —The other even- 
ing at the Queen’s ball Mrs. Gladstone asked 
me, as from her husband, to come to breakfast 
this morning, at the same time that Colonel 
Holmes was invited. At first [ hesitated on the 
score of various engagements and arrears of 
work; but, on consideration that this was the 
second time of such an overture, I decided to go. 
I found no cause to regret the decision, for the 
company was very pleasant. The Duke and 
Duchess of Argyll, Lord Littleton, Lord Hough- 
ton, Lord Frederick Cavendish with his wife, and 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 369 


one of his uncles, and several whom I did not 
know. I forgot Lord Dufferin. We sat at two 
round tables, thus dividing the company; but _ 
Mr. Gladstone took ours, which made all the 
difference in the world. His characteristic is 
the most extraordinary facility of conversation 
on almost any topic, with a great command of 
literary resources, which at once gives it a high 
tone. Lord Houghton, if put to it, is not with- 
out aptness in keeping it up; whilst the Duke of 
Argyll was stimulated out of his customary in- 
difference to take his share. Thus we passed 
from politics, the House of Commons, and Mr. 
Mill, to English prose as illustrated from the 
time of Milton and Bacon down to this day and 
contrasted with German, which has little of 
good, and with French. In the latter connec- 
tion Mr. G. asked me if I had read the Conscrit 
of Erckmann-Chatrian. Luckily for me, who 
have little acquaintance with the light current 
literature, I could say ‘ Yes,’ and could contrast 
it favorably with the artificial manner of Hugo. 
It is a cause of wonder to me how a man like 
Gladstone, so deeply plunged in the current of 
politics, and in the duties of legislation and offi- 
cial labor, can find time to keep along with the 
ephemeral literature abro2zd as well as at home. 
After an hour thus spent we rose, and on a 
question proposed by Colonel Holmes respecting 


370 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


a group of figures in china, which stood in a 
corner, Mr. Gladstone launched forth into a dis- 
quisition on that topic, which he delights in, and 
illustrated his idea of the art by showing us 
several specimens of different kinds. One a 
grotesque but speaking figure in Capo di Monte, 
another a group of combatants, two of whom 
were lying dead with all the aspect of strained 
muscle stiffening; and lastly, a very classical and 
elegant set of Wedgwood ware, certainly finer 
than I ever saw before. He might have gone 
on much longer, but we were separating, and 
I was obliged to hurry home in order to com- 
plete the week’s dispatches. This is the plea- 
santest and most profitable form of English 
society. J have not met with much of it since 
I have been here, and hence infer that it is rare. 
It reminds me a little of my father’s breakfasts 
[in Washington] when he was Secretary of 
State and I a boy.” 

The following are Mr. Adams’s descriptions of 
the funeral obsequies of two of the most distin- 
guished of the public men with whom he came 
in contact while in England, — Richard Cob- 
den, the most influential of those who, during 
the period of rebellion stress, sympathized 
with the Union, though not more courageous or 
outspoken than Bright or Forster; and Lord 
Palmerston, the jaunty Premier, to whose really 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 371 


strong points and attractive attributes Mr. Ad- 
ams, it must be conceded, did scant justice. Mr. 
Cobden died on the 2d of April, 1865, the very 
day of the capture of Richmond and the fall of 
the Confederacy. Lord Palmerston, still Prime 
Minister at the great age of eighty-one, fol- 
lowed him on the 18th of October. 

“ Friday, Tth April, 1865:— To Midhurst [in 
Sussex, some fifteen miles from the south coast 
of England], which we reached at noon. We all 
got out and walked perhaps a mile to the point at 
which the immediate procession would pass from 
the house to the church of Larington, where the 
body was to be buried; here we were to fall in 
and follow. I saw Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Villiers, 
and Mr. Milner Gibson, of the ministers, and 
perhaps sixty members of Parliament. Lord 
Kinnaird, the only peer, and I walked together. 
Besides which there were deputations from sev- 
eral of the great towns of the north, Manches- 
ter and Birmingham, Bradford and Rochdale, 
and Liverpool. The day was lovely, and the 
scenery of that peculiarly quiet, English charac- 
ter seen nowhere but in this little island. It 
has not, however, that defect of flatness and 
over-culture which robs so many parts of all in- 
terest. There is irregularity of surface, and in 
a degree roughness of wood and wild to make 
the picturesque. We wound along a road grad- 


372 CHARLES. FRANCIS ADAMS 


ually ascending until we came to a steep rise, 
which brought us to the little church. The site 
is thus high; and from it the eye wanders over 
a wide space terminating in a range of distant 
hills, all rural and quiet. Here the last cere- 
monies were completed. The land is thrown up 
in glacis, on the highest of which was the tomb 
into which the body was finally placed to re- 
pose. In front were the pall-bearers and near- 
est relatives. On one side were the members 
of Parliament, and at the back I stood, with 
many more, thus making three sides of a square, 
the fourth side left open at the corner of the 
sloping terrace. There was emotion shown by 
none so much as by Mr. Bright. No pageant 
could have touched me so much. I felt my eyes 
filling from mere human sympathy. The de- 
ceased statesman had fought his way to fame 
and honor by the single force of his character. 
He had nothing to give. No wealth, no honors, 
no preferment. A lifelong contempt of the 
ruling class of his countrymen had earned for 
him their secret ill-will, marked on this day by 
the almost total absence of representatives here. 
And, of all foreign nations, I alone, the type of 
a great democracy, stood to bear witness to the 
scene. The real power that was present in the 
multitude crowding around this lifeless form 
was not the less gigantic for all this absence. 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 373 


In this country, it may be said to owe its ex- 
istence to Mr. Cobden. He first taught them 
by precept and example that the right of govy- 
ernment was not really to the few, but to the 
many. He shook the pillars of the aristocracy 
by proving that he could wield influence with- 
out selling himself to them, or without recourse 
to the arts of a demagogue. Thus he becomes 
the founder of a new school, the influence of 
which is only just beginning to be felt. In the 
next century the effects will become visible. 
Such were my meditations as I drew away from 
the spot, and sauntered along a quiet cross-road 
by myself back to the little town of Midhurst, — 
old, with narrow streets, but neat as possible, 
and substantial-looking. No dilapidation, or 
symptom of dirt or poverty. An aspect of com- 
plete repose, as it were Pompeii after an en- 
tombment of centuries. Presently Mr. Forster 
overtook me. We soon afterwards returned in 
the train which got to town at six. Thus passed 
the day. I was glad I went, for it seemed to 
be very acceptable. Besides which, it was an 
event to mark in a lifetime.” 

“ Friday, 27th October. — According to the 
programme, my carriage and servants were sent 
at eleven o’clock to Cambridge House, to make 
a part of the escort of the corpse to Westmin- 
ster Abbey, whilst I went directly to the Abbey 


374 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


at noon. A stall in the choir was assigned to 
me, from which I had a good opportunity to 
see everything of the ceremony in the interior. 
The Prince of Wales and the Duke of Cam- 
bridge came in successively, and each had a stall 
assigned next to the desk of the subdeans. 
Only Mr. Musurus, of the ambassadors, and 
Messrs. D’Azeglio, Biilow, Wachmeister, Ne- 
grete, and myself, of the ministers, with several 
subordinates, supposed to represent their prin- 
cipals, and Baron Blome. The members of Par- 
liament, many of the Lords and other officials, 
had places on a raised platform placed in the 
‘Poets’ Corner.’ Spectators’ heads were visi- 
ble peering out from every arch or window base, 
even to the very roof, where they looked little 
dots; but it gave no idea of a great crowd. 
Presently came in the usual assortment of city 
organizations, with their comical livery dresses, 
and the maces, which make the bathos of every 
public demonstration of this kingdom. After 
these had been carefully disposed of in the space 
just before the altar, the choir came in, preceding 
the body, and chanting the opening sentences 
of the burial service, ‘ I am the resurrection and 
the life,’ and ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth.’ 
To me, this was the most impressive moment of 
the whole ceremony. ‘The singers slowly filed 
off into their places in front of me, making way 


THE YEARS OF FRUITION 375 


for the body, borne in apparently by the chief 
members of the old cabinet, with the new Pre- 
mier at the head, Lord Russell. Just in ad- 
vance was a man bearing on a velvet cushion 
the empty coronet, a good type of the vanity of 
the bauble. Then followed the mourners and 
attendant followers, who filled the remaining 
seats in the choir. Of the whole mass, the only 
blood relations were two persons of the name of 
Sullivan, never heard of in his day of power, 
and therefore probably of very modest preten- 
sions in the social scale; but there were many 
of his wife’s descendants. The ceremony went 
on in customary form until the moment for 
moving to the grave. We then all filed out in 
order, and made a circle around the grave. The 
effect was fine in the midst of the monuments 
to the great men of other times, — Chatham and 
Fox and Pitt and Canning, each of whom was 
a much greater man than Palmerston; yet not 
so much so, but that he might properly enough 
be permitted to repose at their feet. Many are 
resting around him who were not half so de- 
serving as he. Dean Stanley read the remain- 
der of the services clearly and with effect, but 
there was nothing to stir emotion. Then came 
Handel’s hymn, ‘ His body is buried in peace,’ 
very well sung in the midst of a sudden change 
of light caused by heavy rain outside, which 


376 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


gave a touch of gloom that did not form any 
marked feature of the ceremony before. So it 
ended. Imposing, but not affecting. Lord 
Palmerston’s career was one of success which 
drew myriads of friends of a certain sort about 
him, but he was the incarnation of the passions 
of this world. Hence when he vanishes he 
leaves nothing but a historical memory. I could 
not but recall the moment when I stood, only a 
few months ago, by the grave of a greater, be- 
cause a more single-hearted and truthful, states- 
man, and witnessed the simple but earnest trib- 
ute paid to his worth by hundreds of men who 
were drawn to the spot by no idea but the sole 
desire to sprinkle [it] with their tears. At 
that time I, though a stranger, felt the moisture 
spontaneously rising in my eyes. At this, I 
not only stood myself unmoved, but saw no one 
anywhere who looked less calm than I. The 
historical scene was over; and Palmerston is no 
longer a word of charm for any perhaps but the 
widow, who served him faithfully in his days of 
pride, and who in his loss will daily realize the 
change that has come over herself and her own 
ambition. The mainspring is gone.” 


CHAPTER XIX 
THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 


WHEN he returned to America in June, 1868, 
Mr. Adams was in his sixty-first year, and 
much future public usefulness might have been 
expected of him. He was, however, not only, 
so to speak, out of touch with both the great 
political parties which divided the country, but 
he came back to a country quite different from 
that which he had left. Between the United 
States of 1861 and that of 1868 a great gulf 
intervened; and Mr. Adams was a man who 
adjusted himself but slowly to new conditions. 
Moreover, the rough, crude policy of recon- 
struction, inaugurated in opposition to President 
Andrew Johnson by the more radical element 
of the Republican party, now in complete as- 
cendency, offended all his ideas both of public 
morality and constitutional law; on the other 
hand, not only was the record of the Democratic 
party objectionable, but he could not help see- 
ing much to criticise in its present attitude and 
political methods. Still, he came back with a 
great reputation. Throughout the war he had 


378 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


been brought in conflict with those representing 
foreign nations only. Thus he was in no way 
associated in men’s minds with domestic strife, 
and consequently he was in a strong position to 
render public service. He evinced, however, 
no disposition to take part in political affairs, 
avoiding all public expression. While the ac- 
tive politicians —the workers and schemers of 
both parties — looked at him somewhat askance, 
regarding him as an unknown and to a degree 
a questionable factor, he betook himself at once 
to Quincy, and, busying himself with the family 
papers, quietly resumed the life he had aban- 
doned when he went to Washington ten years 
before. Naturally, he did not find the change 
healthful, or his work exhilarating. He under- 
' stood at last his father’s dislike, in his latter 
years, to raking over “‘stale political excite- 
ments.” 

Though, at the presidential election which fol- 
lowed his return, Mr. Adams east a silent vote 
for the Republican candidate, General Grant, 
as representing a policy of peace and restored 
good feeling, he took no part whatever in the 
canvass. The radical element repelled him. 
After the election, however, and when the cabi- 
net of the coming President was in discussion, 
his name was much canvassed in connection with 
the Department of State; but there is no reason — 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 379 


to think that Grant ever seriously considered 
the appointment. When Mr. Adams left for 
England in 1861, the now incoming President 
was a compulsorily retired captain, unknown 
and quite discredited ; nor could anything have 
more emphasized the change the intervening 
years had wrought than, a few months after 
his return, to be introduced to this personage, 
become, as if by magic, the most exalted char- 
acter in the land. The two met for the first 
time at a Boston dinner-table, early in Decem- 
ber, 1869. They doubtless each scrutinized the 
other with curiosity ; it is questionable whether 
on either side the conclusion was altogether fa- 
vorable. 

Harvard University was then looking for a 
President in place of Thomas Hill, recently re- 
signed. Mr. Adams was somewhat in the line 
of safe precedent, and the members of the cor- 
poration accordingly turned towards him. In 
March, 1869, a formal tender of the position 
was made. Mr. Adams declined to consider it. 
He saw in himself “no especial fitness” for 
the office ; and to accept it would, as he wrote, 
“involve a necessity of breaking up all my ar- 
rangements, and the abandonment of plans to 
execute which I had given up public life.” The 
conclusion was not less wise than clear; and, 


Mr. Charles W. Eliot being the next choice, 


380 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


neither Mr. Adams nor the University had oc- 
casion subsequently to regret it. 

Meanwhile the questions at issue between the 
United States and Great Britain, left unsettled 
by Mr. Adams, were rapidly being brought to a 
head. Mr. Reverdy Johnson, of Maryland, had 
succeeded Mr. Adams at London. A treaty, 
subsequently known as the Johnson-Clarendon 
treaty, had been negotiated by Mr. Johnson 
with Lord Clarendon, the British foreign sec- 
retary in the first Gladstone administration, 
and, in the last month of Andrew Johnson’s 
term, was submitted to the Senate for its ap- 
proval. Carried over as unfinished business 
into Grant’s first term, on April 18th it was 
rejected by a vote practically unanimous. It 
was on this occasion that Mr. Sumner, then 
chairman of the senate committee on foreign 
affairs, introduced into the case the element of 
‘indirect claims.” ‘The practical effect of 
this proceeding,” wrote Mr. Adams on the day 
Mr. Sumner’s speech was published, “ is to raise 
the scale of our demands of reparation so very 
high that there is no chance of negotiation left, 
unless the English have lost all their spirit and 
character.” A few days later Mr. Motley, then 
recently appointed, and on his way to succeed 
Reverdy Johnson at London, called on Mr. 
Adams. ‘ He seems anxious to do his best,” 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 381 


wrote Mr. Adams; “ but his embarrassment is 
considerable in one particular which never af- 
fected me, and that is having two masters. Mr. 
Seward never permitted any interference of the 
Senate, or Mr. Sumner, with his direction of 
the policy.” 

There is not space in the present work to 
enter in detail into the history of the treaty of 
Washington. Very interesting, it is replete with 
individual characteristics; but Mr. Adams was 
concerned only in its results. He took no part in 
the negotiations, nor was he more than inciden- 
tally consulted as they progressed. To expect 
an agreement of the two sides on the numer- 
ous and intricate questions in dispute was alto- 
gether unreasonable ; and so, in the end, a series 
of references to arbitration was agreed on, one 
of which, and incomparably the most important, 
covered the Alabama claims. The really no- 
ticeable feature in the treaty, however, — the 
feature unprecedented in diplomacy,— was a 
confession of wrongdoing on the part of one of 
the contracting parties, incorporated in the pre- 
amble. Her Britannic Majesty’s representatives 
there declared themselves authorized to “ ex- 
press in a friendly spirit the regret felt by her 
Majesty’s government for the escape, under 
whatever circumstances, of the Alabama and 
other vessels from British ports, and for the 


382 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


depredations committed by those vessels,” — an 
admission which, eight years before, it would 
have seemed to Lord Palmerston and Earl Rus- 
sell well-nigh inconceivable that England ever 
would descend to make. 

Three rules for the guidance of the arbitrators 
in their disposal of claims in dispute were then 
formulated. Through these rules the principles 
of international law theretofore recognized were 
distinctly developed and defined; and to this re- 
sult the clear and detailed record, so laboriously 
made up by Mr. Adams in his correspondence 
with Earl Russell, greatly contributed. The ar- 
bitrators, five in number, were to be named : — 
one by each of the two nations concerned; one 
by the King of Italy; one by the Emperor of 
Brazil; and one by the President of the Swiss 
Confederation. Count Frederic Sclopis, the 
Baron d’Itajuba, and Mr. Jacob Staempfli were 
duly designated by the three foreign countries. 
Great Britain appointed Sir Alexander Cock- 
burn, Chief Justice of the Court of Queen’s 
Bench; Mr. Adams was appointed on behalf of 
the United States. It was further provided that 
the tribunal should meet at Geneva “at the 
earliest convenient day” after appointment, 
which was subsequently settled as some time in 
December, 1871. None of those with whom he 
thus found himself about to be associated had 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 383 


Mr. Adams ever met; Sir Alexander Cockburn 
not having actively participated in English social 
life during the period of Mr. Adams’s London 
residence. 

Meeting at Geneva at the time fixed, the 
Board organized by the selection of Count 
Sclopis as its presiding member, and then ad- 
journed for six months to give the several arbi- 
trators the time necessary to master, as best they 
could, the elaborate arguments already in’ print, 
amounting almost to a literature. Being the only 
one among them thoroughly familiar with the 
subject in all its aspects, Mr. Adams felt himself 
comparatively at leisure. Going from Geneva 
to the Riviera and thence to Italy, he was medi- 
tating a trip to Egypt, when, suddenly, he found 
himself recalled to America. A new and serious 
difficulty had arisen in the path of the arbitra- 
tion. Sir Alexander Cockburn, the British ap- 
pointee on the board, had never regarded the 
proposed plan of settlement with favor; and he 
left Geneva distinctly prejudiced against it. He 
would have liked to find some good and suf- 
ficient pretext for bringing the arbitration to an 
end ; nor, in his search for sucha pretext, did he 
have far to go. It was found in the American 
case, under the head of ‘ Indirect Damages.” 

The generically so-called Alabama claims, as 
advanced originally by Mr. Adams in his cor- 


384 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


respondence with Earl Russell, and as subse- 
quently provided for in the Johnson-Clarendon 
treaty, included only the direct losses resulting 
from the depredations of such of the Confederate 
cruisers as, during the civil war, escaped from, 
or found refuge and comfort in, British ports. 
So many ships had been destroyed; so much 
damage inflicted. It all admitted of enumera- 
tion and proof; it was definite and measurable ; 
any jury could have passed upon it, and assessed 
a verdict under well-established rules of compu- 
tation applied in accordance with recognized 
principles of law. Something more than this 
had first been foreshadowed by Mr. Sumner in 
his speech, already referred to, on the rejection 
of the Johnson-Clarendon treaty in April, 1869. 
Vague, intangible, admitting neither of measure- 
ment nor of computation, this “‘ something ”’ sub- 
sequently became known as the claim for indi- 
rect or consequential damages. A single item 
only, that of diminution of tonnage in the car- 
rying trade, was computed by Mr. Sumner in 
his. speech at a hundred and ten millions of dol- 
lars; while he vaguely intimated that an ad- 
ditional two thousand millions, or thereabouts, 
something more or a trifle less, might be fairly 
chargeable in the same way on account of the 
prolongation of the war. Obviously, among rea- 
sonable or reasoning men, such a claim was not 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 385 


entitled to serious consideration. Preposterous 
on its face, the suggestion of it was calculated 
to excite derision. Even Mr. Sumner probably 
did not look upon it as a thing convertible into 
figures, or to be measured in pounds and pence. 
His mind was then working in another direc- 
tion. He meditated conjuring the British flag 
out of the entire Western Hemisphere; and 
this was the spectre with which he proposed to 
exorcise! A result wholly visionary, except at 
the close of a decisive trial of strength, was 
thus to be brought about through an impossible 
computation of quantities which did not admit 
of ascertainment. ‘The device was in every re- 
spect characteristic. Of course it does not need 
to be said that no nation not wholly crushed and 
helpless would, any more than an individual, 
submit to be mulcted in this fashion. The pro- 
posal was an insult, and its discussion would be a 
humiliation. The United States had but to con- 
sider what its own feelings would be if it were 
insolently confronted with such a proposition. 
The consequences are readily imaginable, there- 
fore, when, on the distribution of what was 
known as “the American case” at Geneva on 


1 See the extraordinary memorandum submitted by Mr. 
Sumner to Secretary Fish on the 17th of January, 1871, 
printed by Professor Moore, International Arbitrations, i. 525 ; 
also, Sumner’s Works, xiii. 127-130. 


386 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


February 15th, an examination disclosed the fact 
that this claim for indirect and consequential 
damages had in it been advanced. In the pre- 
sentation, too, there was not a sign of humor, nor 
an indication of a sense of absurdity. On its 
face the claim was made seriously. It is need- 
less at this point to enter into any elaborate 
discussion of why this thing was done, by whom 
it was inspired, or to what end it was designed. 
That it was there, was at the time both plain 
and sufficient. The treaty was endangered. 

The London press at once seized on the matter. 
The “ Morning Advertiser” opened on January 
4th by asking whether it was possible that 
‘‘imbeciles and fools” could have so conducted 
negotiations as to put it in the power of any 
tribunal, ‘“‘even by possibility, to award our na- 
tional degradation and financial ruin;” if they 
had, it only remained for the nation at once to 
resume a faculty it had so fatally delegated to 
such “crass incompetency.” The chorus then 
became general; and, in its turn, Great Britain 
passed into a condition of hysteria not unlike 
that experienced by the Northern communities 
of the United States when they heard of the 
Trent performance of Captain Wilkes. 

The ministry bowed to the storm. Signifi- 
cantly referred to in the Queen’s speech at the 
opening of Parliament on February 9th, the 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 387 


“indirect claims” became at once matter for 
parliamentary discussion and diplomatic cor- 
respondence. Mr. Disraeli, the leader of the 
opposition, characterized them as “ preposterous 
and wild,” equivalent to a “tribute from a con- 
quered people;” and the Prime Minister, Mr. 
Gladstone, in reply, referred to this language as 
‘“‘rather under the mark than an exaggeration,” 
and was loudly cheered when he went on to 
declare that “we must be insane to accede to 
demands which no nation with a spark of honor 
or spirit left could submit to even at the point 
of death.”! The British commissioners in due 
time each rose in his place, whether the House 
of Lords, or Exeter, or the Oxford lecture-room, 
and expressed their astonishment at the con- 
struction put upon their handiwork; while pre- 
sently Lord Granville began to exchange notes 
on the subject with General Schenck, now the 


1 This debate occurred in February, 1872. By the terms 
of the treaty of Versailles, which, in February, 1871, exactly 
twelve months before, brought the Franco-Prussian war to a 
close, France, besides the loss of Alsace and Lorraine, had 
been forced to submit to the payment of a war indemnity of 
one thousand millions of dollars. This precedent, very fresh 
at the time, was obviously present in the minds of those who 
took part in the debate. The suggestion of some enormous 
money payment was, therefore, less absurd than it would 
otherwise have seemed, and much more offensive. Great 
Britain was to undergo a fate similar to that of prostrate 
France. 


388 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


American minister to Great Britain, and Sir 
Edward Thornton with Secretary Fish. 

The really unfortunate feature in the thing 
lay in the discreditable turn it gave to what had 
up to that point been a most creditable negoti- 
ation, — one good in itself, and promising yet bet- 
ter in what it might lead to as a precedent. As 
the Earl of Derby intimated, it gave the im- 
pression on the part of the Americans of “a 
good deal of acuteness, —I will not call it by 
a harsher name,’ —not pleasant to contemplate. 
The real fact, however, would seem to be that 
the indirect claims were inserted in the Ameri- 
can “case” by those who prepared it, not be- 
cause of any faith in them or a hope that they 
might possibly be entertained, but in order to 
get rid of them, and as a species of political 
estoppel. They had been advanced by Senator 
Sumner and advocated by General B. F. Butler, 
—both factors in Washington not to be disre- 
garded. They could not, therefore, well be 
abandoned, while they were certain to be over-. 
ruled. They were accordingly brought into the 
case, and presented as clearly, fully, and vigor- 
ously as possible, with a view to forestalling 
home criticism. Meanwhile the British com- 
missioners, understanding the situation of their 
American associates, had assumed a tacit aban- 
donment; and the language of the treaty was 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 389 


intentionally so framed that, without any ex- 
press renunciation of consequential damages, it 
could be construed so as to exclude them.! As 
a result, in order to avert a possible subsequent 
danger, the one side presented with all possible 
earnestness and apparent conviction a claim 
which it knew to be preposterous and intended 
to have overruled; while the other, taking the 
thing seriously, gave way to an outburst of in- 
dignation at what was assumed to be an attempt 
to overreach. 

Passing through London in February, on his 
way home, Mr. Adams found the British mind 
in much the same condition of ferment that he 
recalled so vividly during the December of ten 
winters before. Forming a tolerably clear idea 
of the situation, he left for New York, arriving 
there on February 21st, and going at once to 
Washington to confer with the President and 
Mr. Fish. Thence he returned to Boston, where 
he remained until the following May, when he 
embarked once more for Europe. 

Meanwhile a new contingency arose, and, to 
his own great surprise, Mr. Adams suddenly 
found himself a prominent candidate for a presi- 
dential nomination. The history of the move- 
ment which culminated in the Cincinnati con- 


1 This subject is very clearly and fully dealt with by Pro- 
fessor Moore, International Arbitrations, i. 629-639. 


390 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


vention of May, 1872, and the nomination of 
Horace Greeley as the opposing candidate to 
President Grant in the canvass of that year, is 
curious, and not without its humorous as well as 
interesting features. It can, however, here only 
be alluded to. President Grant’s first adminis- 
tration, as it drew to its close, was not generally 
regarded as a success. Many of the recognized 
Republican leaders — men like Sumner, Schurz, 
Trumbull, and Greeley — were in open insurrec- 
tion, and they were supported by the most in- 
fluential portion of the independent press. The 
Democratic party was demoralized by repeated 
defeat, and ready to accept any candidate who 
might bring with him reasonable assurance of 
success. ‘Any one to beat Grant” was the 
ery. Under these circumstances, Mr. Schurz, 
then a senator from Missouri, conceived a bril- 
liant political cowp. By summoning a conven- 
tion of the independent elements early in the 
canvass, he proposed to forestall the action of 
the Democrats, and to unite the entire opposi- 
tion under one generally acceptable candidate, 
as against the reélection of the President. From 
every point of view, — character, experience, iso- 
lation from party, known political views, and 
freedom from recent controversies, — Mr. Adams 
was, as a candidate, the natural and logical out- 
come of such a movement. It was so intended 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 391 


by those most active in it. The more influential 
Democrats expected and desired it. Everything 
pointed to it. When, suddenly, at the last mo- 
ment, through one of those ingeniously devised 
political manipulations for which New York has 
from time immemorial been famous, Horace 
Greeley was, as if by some sleight-of-hand trick, 
substituted for Mr. Adams as the presidential 
candidate of those political elements — includ- 
ing reformers of the civil service, free-traders, 
the Jacksonian Democracy, and the remnants 
of the Southern oligarchy — to which Horace 
Greeley had throughout his active and prominent 
career been as objectionable as any man who 
could have been named. The blunder, brought 
about in the idea of some supposed superior 
*“ availability,” was irretrievable, and resulted in 
a political fiasco and personal tragedy. In No- 
vember, the dazed and beaten opposition pulled 
itself out of a slough of defeat in time to look 
stolidly on while its odd and wholly uncongenial 
candidate was borne to his grave. Mr. Adams 
had then just returned home from the suc- 
cessful performance of his last public service. 
He had simply been saved from either a political 
defeat, or a presidency predestined from its 
commencement to failure. This he fully real- 
ized. 

Meanwhile it is a fact, curiously illustrative 


392 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


of Mr. Adams’s political isolation and the per- 
sonal respect in which he was at this time held, 
that in April, 1872, when his name was most in 
discussion as the probable nominee of the Cin- 
cinnati convention, then actually gathering, di- 
rect overtures were made to him to induce his 
acceptance of the second place on the ticket 
with Grant. These emanated from no less a 
person than Roscoe Conkling, and in the name 
of the New York delegation to the Republican 
presidential convention, to whom was to be 
given the choice of a vice-presidential candi- 
date. Mr. Adams declined to consider the pro- 
position, and Henry Wilson was subsequently 
decided upon. 

Mr. Adams sailed for Europe on April 24th, 
one week before the day fixed for the meeting 
of the convention at Cincinnati. The first news 
he heard on reaching London was of his own 
defeat, and the nomination of Greeley. ‘ This,” 
he wrote, “was odd enough. The unexpected is 
what mostly turns up. This completely over- 
sets all the calculations of the original authors 
of the convention, for success with such a can- 
didate is out of the question. My first sense is 
one of great relief in being out of the mélée.” 

It was now very questionable whether the ar- 
bitration would proceed. The British attitude 
was one of distrust, — uncertainty, with a ten- 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 393 


dency to defiance. A novel feature in the arbi- 
tration had been the presence in the tribunal of 
a nominee of each of the high contracting parties. 
The framers of the treaty probably had recourse 
to this expedient in order to meet the obvious 
objections to confiding a reference of such im- 
portance to a board composed of individuals 
whose familiarity with the English language was 
not less a matter of uncertainty than was their 
knowledge of the principles of law involved. To 
both parties it seemed desirable to reserve some 
means of insight into the methods of procedure 
of a tribunal thus made up. This expedient now 
~ saved the arbitration. Mr. Adams, no less ear- 
nest to bring a great and novel experiment to a 
successful issue than the Anglo-American con- 
troversies to a close, proved equal to the occa- 
sion. The result turned on him. 

Sir Alexander Cockburn now regarded the 
arbitration as dead. So confident was he of 
this that he dismissed the matter from his mind, 
and went back to Geneva without putting him- 
self to the inconvenience of making a study of 
the case. As he subsequently expressed it in 
the conferences of the board, “ he had not 
known what Mr. Adams proposed to do.” Mr. 
Adams “ proposed,”’ somehow, to carry the thing 
through; and he did it. The British counter- 
case once filed, as he told W. E. Forster, at that 


394 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


time in Gladstone’s ministry, when they parted 
in London, “my business is to go to Geneva. 
In case Great Britain should decline to appear 
there, I shall urge the other arbitrators to go on 
nevertheless to decide on the issues now made 
up.” Reaching Geneva at the time appointed 
for the reassembling of the arbitrators, he found 
everything uncertain. A brief survey of the 
situation satisfied him that there was but one 
course to pursue. The knot had to be cut. 
“We must,” he wrote, “ decide upon rejecting 
the whole question of indirect damages; and I 
must set it in motion, or nothing will come of 
it.” He proceeded accordingly. 

The English counsel were then communicated 
with. ‘* What,” said Lord Tenterden, ‘does 
Mr. Adams want? If he means business he 
must go further. He must have the indirect. 
claims rejected.” Adroitly seeing his colleagues 
on the tribunal, one by one, Mr. Adams now ar- 
ranged the method of procedure. After a pre- 
arranged formal adjournment of the board on 
the 17th, the five arbitrators remained together 
for consultation. The French of Mr. Adams’s 
Russian childhood now asserted its value; and 
gradually, by a process which he described in 
detail at the time, the reluctant Cockburn was 
led up to intimating “that an extra-judicial 
Opinion might be made, which, if satisfactory 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 395 


to the United States so far as to extinguish their 
demand, would not be disputed by Great Britain. 
I saw at once the opening,” wrote Mr. Adams, 
“and asked him directly whether such a step 
taken here would, in his opinion, satisfy the gov- 
ernment, and remove all obstacles to immediate 
progress. He said he thought it would. I said 
that, in that event, I was prepared to make 
a proposition. I should be assuming a heavy 
responsibility ; but I should do so, not as an ar- 
bitrator representing my country, but as repre- 
senting all nations.” The English member of 
the Board then absenting himself from its next 
meeting, the claim for “indirect damages”’ was, 
under the lead of Mr. Adams, summarily ruled 
out of consideration, as opposed to the prin- 
ciples of international law. This obstacle be- 
ing thus removed, and the decision accepted as 
final by the United States, the requests for yet 
further delay made on behalf of the British 
were disallowed, and the arbitration proceeded. 
A few days afterwards, as Mr. Adams was leav- 
ing the Geneva Salle des Mariages, the chamber 
in which the meetings of the arbitrators were 
held, one of the newspaper correspondents 
handed him a slip from the London “ Times,” 
in which the whole success in saving the treaty 
was attributed to his efforts. ‘‘Thus it goes 
forth;”’ he wrote, — “the Chief Justice only 


396 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


echoed the voice of Great Britain. Well, I sup- 
pose I must take that responsibility. Such a 
success is far more precious to me than any nom- 
ination or election to the place of President.” 
At that day’s session “ the Chief Justice,” or Sir 
Alexander Cockburn, had begged for delay in 
which to prepare himself, on the ground that, 
until then, he had not supposed that anything 
would come of the arbitration. ‘ He was not 
in Mr. Adams’s situation,” he said; ‘nor could 
he foresee what Mr. Adams was about to do to 
remove all difficulties.” The victory was com- 
plete. 

Into the subsequent history of the arbitration, 
which, ‘‘ whether measured by the gravity of 
the questions at issue, or by the magnanimous 
and enlightened statesmanship which conducted 
them to a peaceful determination, was justly 
regarded as the greatest the world had ever 
seen,” ! there is not space here to enter. The 
award ($15,500,000) there secured in favor of 
the United States was, for Mr. Adams’s public 
life, what Cromwell called “the crowning 
mercy.” Of his judicial carriage in securing 
that result, the agent of his government subse- 
quently wrote: “I must bear testimony to the 
perfect and dignified impartiality with which, 
throughout the proceedings, Mr. Adams main- 


1 Moore, International Arbitrations, i. 652, 653. 


THE GENEVA ARBITRATION 397 


tained his position as a judge between the two 
contending nations. Of him, at least, it may 
be said that his love of country never controlled 
his sense of justice, and that at no time did he 
appear as an advocate.” 


CHAPTER XX 
CLOSING YEARS 


THE days passed at Geneva were among the 
most satisfactory and happiest of Mr. Adams’s 
life. Everything combined to cause him to en- 
joy them, — scenery, climate, occupation, social 
surroundings, and, above all, success. On the 
last day (September 14th) of the sessions of 
the tribunal, and when its presiding member 
had declared it dissolved, Mr. Adams wrote: 
“Thus closed this great experiment, with as 
much of success as could possibly have been 
expected. I walked home, musing. It is now 
eleven years since this mission was given to me. 
Through good report and through evil report, 
my action has been associated with its progress ; 
and, now that it is ended, I have only to return 
my humble thanks to the Disposer of events for 
the blessing He thought fit to confer upon me in 
carrying the matter to its end. I may hope to 
consider it as an honorable termination to my 
public career.” 

On the 31st of October following, after ten 
days of weather than which he declared he had 


CLOSING YEARS 399 


never seen anything “ more dismal,’’ Mr. Adams 
took his departure from London, though, “I 
presume, never to see it again, with little re- 
gret.” ‘ Yet,” he added, “I leave [Europe] 
with no painful associations. To me it is con- 
nected with the only brilliant part of my career. 
Thus it is well it should rest in my memory.” 
The active public life of Mr. Adams practi- 
cally ended, as he had surmised it might, with 
the Geneva arbitration. It had extended over 
just thirteen years. It covered the whole period 
of the civil war, including the process of recon- 
struction ; and he was, in all respects, singularly 
happy in the share of work allotted to him. It 
was important; it was work for which he was 
by nature peculiarly adapted; it was done amid 
congenial surroundings; it was complete; and 
it was successful. A public man could ask for 
nothing more. The contentions in which he was 
engaged were of surpassing magnitude, and in- 
volved momentous consequences ; they extended 
through a long period of time; they were carried 
on wholly with foreign nations; and, in their 
conduct, he came in collision with some of the 
foremost of European public men. Yet his suc- 
cess was as final as it was complete and unques- 
tioned. When he landed in New York on No- 
vember 13, 1872, he had a right to exclaim, 
as he did, “lo Triumphe!” for every issue be- 


400 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


tween Great Britain and the United States 
growing out of the great civil war either was 
definitely settled, or was in course of early set- 
tlement. His work was done; and done thor- 
oughly. 

Returning to Boston in November, immedi- 
ately after the second election of Grant, Mr. 
Adams found the business portions of his native 
city a mass of smoking ruins, — the great Boston 
fire having occurred during the previous week. 
He at once resumed his former mode of life, 
nor was it again disturbed. He was now at just 
the age when his grandfather had left the presi- 
dency to rust out his declining years in the 
dreary monotony of a “dignified” retirement ; 
at just the age also when his father, rebelling 
at the idea of a similar fate, had flung himself 
into that congressional career which proved the 
most brilliant and active portion of his active 
and brilliant life. Had he been fully and 
keenly disposed, or had circumstances proved 
propitious, Mr. Adams might, in the ordinary 
course of nature, have yet had before him ten 
years at least of active public service; years in 
which, aided by the experience he had gathered 
and the reputation he had won, he might most 
advantageously have influenced the course of 
events. In his case this was not to be. 


Not that he probably would have disliked 


CLOSING YEARS 401 


another term of place and power; for with him 
too, as he one day wrote, “ public life was a 
very fascinating occupation, but like drinking 
brandy. The more you indulge in it, the more 
uncomfortable it leaves you when you stop.” 
Accordingly, he would now have not been dis- 
pleased to hear that unequivocal call which 
would have summoned him back to activity ; 
but, though only just past the climacteric, 
though four years younger than Lord: John 
Russell when they first faced each other at Pem- 
broke Lodge, he was now an old man. Ma- 
tured early, he grew old early. Even in 1875, 
only three years after he got back from Geneva, 
while his name was still common in men’s 
mouths and in the newspapers in connection 
with the senatorship in succession to Sumner 
and Wilson, with the governorship of Massa- 
chusetts, with the Department of State, with the 
presidency itself after Grant’s second term had 
run out, —even then Mr. Adams was no longer 
fit to bear the burdens of office. Responsibility 
weighed upon him; work troubled him ; trifles 
worried him. His powers, physical and mental, 
having long since attained their growth, had 
begun to decay; and the consciousness of it 
saddened him. 

He had also early in life assigned to himself 
a task not yet wholly performed; and once 


402 CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS 


more he turned to the family papers. Arrang- 
ing old letters, and, in the evening of life, read- 
ing diaries, written by those now dead, of days 
long past but still remembered, is at best to no 
man exhilarating. So Mr. Adams now found. 
Immediately after the return from Geneva he 
had set to work on the publication of portions of 
his father’s diary, which he entitled ‘‘ Memoirs.” 
The first volume appeared in 1874. At last, on 
a certain day in August, 1877, he found the final 
volume lying on his table. The labor imposed 
on himself nearly forty years before in connec- 
tion with his grandmother, his grandfather, and 
his father was completed ; and, laying down the 
volume, he wrote: “1 am now perfectly willing 
to go myself. My mission is ended, and I may 
rest.” 


Mr. Adams died in Boston on the 21st of No- 
vember, 1886. Mrs. Adams outlived her hus- 
band two years and a half, dying in Quincy on 
the evening of June 6, 1889. Their married 
life covered over fifty-seven years; and five 
children, four sons and one daughter, survived 
them. 





} We SUES 
‘ ae 





INDEX 


ABOLITIONIsTs, begin agitation, 29, 
30; hold meeting at Faneuil Hall 
to denounce murder of Lovejoy, 
34; accused of instigating negrocs 
to rise, 38; their place in anti- 
slavery struggle, 55-57 ; a symp- 
tom of vitality in society, 56; 
preach disunion and lose influence, 
57, 75; not of much importance 
after 1844, 58, 59. 

Adams, Abigail, takes charge of her 
grandsons in 1817, 10; reverenced 
by them, 10, 11; her ‘ letters”’ 
published by C. F. Adams, 40, 41. 

Adams, Charles Francis, ancestry, 
1,2; birth, 3; early education in 
Russia and France, 4,5; in Paris 
during the Hundred Days, 7 ; goes 
to school in England, 8, 9; learns 
to understand English character, 
9, 10; under tutelage of his grand- 
mother, 10, 11; education at Bos- 
ton Latin School and in Harvard, 
11; lives in Washington, 12; stud- 
ies law under Daniel Webster, 12 ; 
admitted to bar and married, 13, 
objects to his father’s returning 
to political life, 14, 16; later sup- 
ports him earnestly, 16; attends 
to his father’s financial affairs, 16, 
17; contributes to ‘‘ North Ameri- 
can Review,’’ 18; urges his 
father to write a life of John 
Adams, 19; publishes pamphlet 
against the Patronage Bill of 1835, 
26-28 ; rejoices at gaining recog- 
nition independent of his father’s 
reputation, 28; disapproves at 
first of abolitionists, 30 ; laments 
his father’s share in congressional 
struggle, 30, 31; impressed by 


Channing’s argument, 31, 32; 
still slow to approve of agitation, 
32 ; enraged at Bostonian coldness 
over Lovejoy’s murder, 33, 34; 
describes Faneuil Hall meeting to 
protest, 34-36 ; indignant at Aus- 
tin’s defense of the murder, 35, 
36; regrets his inability to agree 
with abolitionists, 36; from ob- 
serving Southern congressmen 
grows increasingly anti-slavery, 
37, 38; writes articles on current 
politics, 38, 39; reads his grand- 
father’s letters, 39; publishes 
‘*Letters of Mrs. Adams,’ 40, 
41, 

Member of Massachusetts Legis- 
lature. Declines nomination to 
legislature in 1839, 42 ; accepts to 
please his father in 1840, 42; a 
Democrat in 1836, a Whig in 1840, 
43; elected in spite of supposed 
family unpopularity, 43, 44; his 
father’s advice, 44; developed in 
character by his legislative career, 
46; considers state legislation 
narrowing, 46, 47; sums up his 
career and influence, 47, 48. 
Leader of Conscience Whigs. 
Agrees with others to found a 
newspaper, 50, 51; ignorant of 
newspaper management, 64; an 
editor of the old-fashioned type, 
67; his name does not appear 
upon the paper, 68; receives no 
pay, 69 ; opposesa third party, but 
demands abolition of slavery, 69 ; 
denounces Winthrop’s vote for 
the Mexican war, 71; condemned 
by regular Whigs as indecorous, 
73; attacks Lawrence and Apple- 


406 


ton for refusing to sign remon- 
strance against admission of 
Texas, 76-78; describes Webster’s 
part in Massachusetts Whig Con- 
vention of 1846, 80; depressed at 
defeat of Conscience Whigs, 82; 
on Sumner’s poor speech in Whig 
Convention of 1847, 84; realizes 
his lack of success as an editor, 
87; grows weary of the enterprise, 
88; relieved at abandoning the 
paper, 88. 

Free-So<! Leader. Plans a bolt 
from Whig nomination of Taylor, 
89; appointed delegate to Buffalo 
Convention, ©; dreads nomi:a- 
tion of Van Buren, 90; chairman 
of convention, 91; nominated for 
Vice-President, 91; gratified at 
size of Free-Soil vote in Massa- 
chusetts, 92; gains a reputation 
independont of his ancestors, 93; 
sensitive to sneers on this point, 
93-95 ; confronted with his own 
utterances on Van Buren, 95, 96; 
his opinion of Van Buren in 1848, 
96; his position as supporter of 
Van PBuren illogical, 97; turns 
from politics to editing the Works 
of John Adaris, 100, 101 ; passes 
several years in privacy, 101, 102; 
in danger of becoming worn out 
asa public man, 103; mentioned 
to succced his father, but supports 
Horace Mann, 10°; defeated for 
Congress in 1852, 104; not sup- 
ported by the Democrats, 104; 
opposed by native Americans, 
105. 

Member of Congress. Nomi- 
nated in 1858 for Congress, and 
elected, 105; engages a house in 
Washington, 106; neglects Gid- 
dings’s advice and fails to ask for 
a good appointment on commit- 
tees, 111; given the merely hon- 
orary succession to his father’s 
committee position, 111, 112; re- 
luctant to speak in the House, 
112 ; urged by constituents, makes 


INDEX 


a set speech, 113; tribute of Cobb 
to his moderation, 113; substance 
of his speech, 113, 114; favors 
nomination of Seward, 114; de- 
pressed by nomination of Lincoln, 
114; his opinion of Lincoln in 1860, 
115; his part in campaign of 1860, 
115; does not claim to have fore- 
seen secession, 117; astounded 
when it comes, 118; later says it 
could have been stifled by prompt 
action, 128; realizes necessity for 
a conciliatory attitude, 129, 130; 
sees necessity of preventing out- 
break until after March, 1861, 130, 
131; favors conciliatory measures 
to gain time, 131; hopes to hold 
border states, 131; represents Mas- 
sachusetts in Committee of Thir- 
ty-three, 132; not disappointed at 
failure of committee, 132, 133; at 
outset induces Southern extrem- 
ists to show their plans, 134; 
hopes in this way to put South in 
the wrong, 134; does this by pro- 
posing compromise measures, 136, 
137 ; upon refusal of South to be 
satisfied ceases to urge compro- 
mise, 139; sums up his course, 
his success, 139, 140; his speech 
of January 31, 140-142; his 
speech conciliates moderate men, 
142; urged for Treasury Depart- 
ment, 143 ; nc& considered by Lin- 
coln for any position, 143, 144; 
his appointment to English mis- 
sion secured by Seward, 144; 
visits Seward and Lincoln to con- 
sult on instructions, 145; scan- 
dalized at Lincoln’s indifference, 
146. 

Minister to England. On arrival 
in London visited by Bates, 147; 
surprised at proclamation recog- 
nizing Confederacy as belligerent, 
148 ; situation on his arrival, 158; 
ignorant of Seward’s proposed 
vigorous foreign policy, 167; an- 
noyed by talk of Seward’s hos- 
tility to England, 168; secures 


INDEX 


interview with Russell, 175; 
compared with Russell, 175, 176; 
astounded at Seward’s dispatch 
No. 10, 176; determines to pre- 
vent war if possible, 178; inspires 
respect and confidence in England, 
178, 179 ; does not realize Seward’s 
desire for a foreign war, 179; nar- 
rowly escapes a humiliating situa- 
tion, 195; tries to follow instruc- 
tions without giving offense, 196, 
197 ; protests against further Eng- 
lish dealings with Confederate 
commissioners, 197; Confederate 
opinions of, 198 ; conderns shuf- 
fling policy of Palmerston, 203, 
204; offers accession of United 
States to Treaty of Paris, 205, 206; 
prepares the form of a conven- 
tion, 207 ; on Lusscell’s demurring 
closes negotiations, 207; makes 
it difficult for Russell to treat 
him as representative of North 
only, 208; loses faith in honesty 
of Palmerston ad-ninistration, 
209; annoyed by depredations 
of Nashville, 210; suffers from 
social coldness i1 England, 214, 
215; outdoes Unglish at their own 
game, 215; seldom invited out, 
215; visits Milnes, 215, 216; 
learns of seizure of Mason and 
Slidell, 216, 217; remains away 
from London, 217; ignorant as 
to details of episode, 215; his un- 
easy situation, 219; asked by 
Palmerston to c2"1, 220; describes 
Palmerston’s suggestion not to 
enrage England by naval seizures 
in the Channel, 222-295; denies 
any intentions of interfering with 
British mailships, 224, 225; left 
Without instructions in Trent af- 
fair, 226; discusses facts of affair 
with Russell, 227; tries to dis- 
cover whether hostilities are prob- 
able, 228; feels that Russell does 
not wish war, 228, 229; thinks 
letter of Weed too deprecating, 
233; sends dispatch urging sur- 


407 


render of Mason and Slidell, 235; 
his message not referred to in 
cabinet, 236; receives news of 
decision to surrender, 238; at- 
tacked in London papers, 239; 
distrusts Palmerston, 241; gradu- 
ally thinks better of him, 242; 
hopes in 1862 for end of war, 242, 
243 ; receives furious protest from 
Palmerston against Butler’s New 
Orleans order, 248; suspects it 
shows intention to pick a quarrel, 
249 ; asks Palmerston whether it 
is an official protest or not, 250, 
251; shows protest to Russell, 251; 
again receives protest from Pal- 
merston, 252; answers, defending 
the United States and insisting on 
a reply to his previous question, 
254; told by Russell to consider 
it a private matter, 254; sends 
telling reply to Palmerston’s final 
note, 259; breaks off social inter- 
course with Palmerston, 260; 
finds Cobden, Bright, and Forster 
friendly to North, 263; warned 
by Forster of purpose of recog- 
nizing Confederate belligerency, 
264; not so well informed of Eng- 
lish cabinet opinions as Confed- 
erates, 283; suspects joint action 
of French and English, 284; asks 
and receives instructions how to 
meet an offer of mediation, 284; 
alarmed by Gladstone’s menacing 
speech, 286, 287 ; tells the Forsters 
substance of his instructions, 287; 
secures interview with Russell, 
289; learns that cabinet does not 
support Gladstone, 289; reports 
proposal of joint mediation by 
Drouyn de Lhuys, 290; welcomes 
Emancipation Proclamation as 
fulfillment of his father’s prophe- 
cies, 295; gratified by an address 
in its favor from Manchester 
workinemen, 298; receives a de- 
putation after the final proclama-: 
tion, 299; receives increasing 
number of addresses, 299 ; for the 


408 


first time conscious of any cordial- 
ity in England, 300; receives depu- 
tation of clergymen, 300; thinks 
the meetings influenced Parlia- 
ment against intervention, 302 ; 
feels unmeasured contempt for 
English cant, 305; warned of 
progress of the ‘‘ 290,’’ 309; after 
Confederate successes in 1862, 
despairs of preventing hostile 
action, 310; fails to induce Eng- 
lish to prevent infractions of neu- 
trality, 312 ; submits evidence to 
Russell, 314; learns of construc- 
tion of Laird rams, 316 ; tries to 
increase pressure on Russell, 317; 
determines to prevent war if pos- 
sible, 318; forwards fresh evi- 
dence about the rams, 319; not 
aware ofattempt of United States 
to buy the rams, 322; receives 
sharp instructions, 322; efforts 
of Slidell to counteract, 325; sus- 
pects intrigue of Slidell in at- 
tempt to force the ministry to 
recognize the Confederacy, 331 ; 
describes Roebuck’s failure in the 
Commons, 332, 333; complained 
of by French Foreign Office, 334; 
receives news of Gettysburg and 
Vicksburg, 335; describes anger 
and incredulity of English, 335, 
336 ; on Mason’s attempt to break 
down Russell, 337; puts aside 
Seward’s threatening instructions, 
337 ; assumes responsibility, 338 ; 
continues ostensibly to believe in 
good faith of English, 338; declines 
to discuss American affairs with 
Confederate sympathizers, 339; 
impresses Argyll with gravity of 
situation, 339; fears government 
will permit departure of rams, 
340, 341; sends protests to Rus- 
sell, 341; hears that government 
will not stop the vessels, 342; 
sends last solemn protest, 342, 
343; notified that his protest suc- 
ceeds, 343, 344; importance of 
his action, 345; realizes without 


INDEX 


exultation the meaning of his 
success, 348 ; reports English de- 
light in reports of Confederate suc- 
cess, 348, 349 ; now unchallenged 
by Confederate intrigues, 350; on 
Mason’s departure, 350; insists 
on resigning after the war, 352; 
hampered by irregular emissaries 
during term, 352, 354 ; his friendly 
relations with Weed, 354; at- 
tacked in newspapers, 355; com- 
plains of annoyances, 356; does 
not enjoy diplomatic service, 356; 
holds high .position during last 
years, 357; continues Alabama 
correspondence, 357 ; his part in 
Fenian trials, 358; denounced by 
extremists, 358 ; describes visit to 
Spurgeon’s services, 359-363 ; his 
opinion of English middle classes, 
362; visits Canterbury, 364-368; 
describes the Cathedral, 364, 365 ; 
visits a concert of middle class, 
366-368; describes breakfast at 
Gladstone’s, 368-370; describes 
Cobden’s funeral, 371-373; on 
Cobden’s influence in England, 
372, 373; describes Palmerston’s 
funeral, 373-376; calls it impos- 
ing but not affecting, 375, 376. 

In the Geneva Arbitration. Re- 
turns to America, 377; finds a 
new political world, 377 ; opposes 
congressional reconstruction, 377; 
dislikes Democrats, 377; not 
involved in any political strife, 
378; returns to Quincy and pri- 
vate life, 378; takes no part in 
campaign of 1868, 378; meets 
Grant at Boston, 379; declines 
Presidency of Harvard, 379; on 
effect of Sumner’s advocacy of 
indirect claims upon England, 380; 
visited by Motley, 380; not con- 
cerned with negotiations preced- 
ing Treaty of Washington, 381; 
appointed arbitrator for the 
Dnited States, 382; meets board 
at Geneva, 383; recalled to Amer- 
ica, 383; finds English enraged at 


INDEX 


indirect claims, 389; mentioned 
as candidate to beat Grant, 390; 
not nominated, 391; at same time 
declines offer of vice-presidency 
with Grant, 392 ; returns to Eu- 
rope, 392; decides to induce ar- 
bitrators to throw out indirect 
claims, 393, 394; consults with 
arbitrators, 394; secures admis- 
sion from Cockburn that if in- 
direct damages be ruled out the 
arbitration may proceed, 394, 395; 
leads board to rule out indirect 
damages, 395; scores victory over 
English and secures success of 
arbitration, 395, 396; his behav- 
ior and services during the pro- 
ceedings, 396, 397; his reflections 
on the closing of the tribunal, 398; 
returns to America, 398; survey 
of his public career, 399; remains 
in retirement from this time on, 
400; mentioned for various offices, 
401; his powers decay early, 401; 
resumes work and completes his 
father’s ‘‘Memoirs,’’ 402; his 
death, 402. 

Personal traiis. Ambition, 28, 
92, 356, 400; coldness, 33, 46, 93, 
112, 215; diplomatic ability, 175, 
196, 208, 255, 289, 345, 357, 395; 
early maturity and decay, 11, 46, 
401; editorial ability, 64, 67, 87, 
88; financial ability, 17; literary 
ability, 18, 27, 38-41, 141; pride, 
93-95, 111, 255; relations with his 
father, 14, 16, 31, 82, 86; self- 
command, 217, 358; self-esteem 
44, 47 ; sincerity, 178, 396. 

Political opinions. Abolitionism, 
30, 31, 33, 36, 37; compromise in 
1861, 134-138, 140; election of 
1872, 392; Emancipation Procla- 
mation, 295; English character, 
8, 305, 335, 341; English middle 
class, 298, 300, 302, 360-363, 367, 
372; France, policy of, 249, 290; 
Free-Soil party, 90, 96; indirect 
Alabama damages, 380, 394, 395; 
Lincoln, 145, 146; Mexican war, 


409 


71; neutrality of England, 309, 
317; Palmerston’s policy, 204, 
208, 220, 242, 376; political anti- 
slavery action, 43, 69, 77; recon- 
struction, 377; removals from 
office, 26, 27; Republican party, 
113, 114; Russell’s policy, 175, 
204, 209, 337; secession, 117, 
128; Seward’s war policy in 1861, 
176-178; Treaty of Paris, 205; 
Trent affair, 219, 228, 235. 

Adams, John, efforts of C. F. Adams 
to induce his father to write life 
of, 19; his old love letters read by 
his grandson, 39; his ‘‘ Life and 
Works ’’ published by Adams, 101. 

Adams, John, son of J. Q. Adams, 
studies in England, 8; his repartee 
to English boys, 8. 

Adams, John Quincy, marries Louisa 
Johnson, in London, 2; returns to 
America, chosen to United States 
Senate, 3; christens his third son, 
Charles Francis, 3, 4; minister to 
Russia, 4; familiar with French, 
5 ; appointed peace commissioner, 
5; describes Holland in a letter to 
his son, 6; minister to England, 
7; describes repartee of John 
Adams, his son, 8; returns to 
America to be secretary of state, 
10; aided in his career by his son, 
13, 14; reluctant to go into re- 
tirement, 14; less mature in dis- 
position than his son, 14; accepts 
nomination to Congress, 15; his 
career up to 1828 steadily success- 
ful, 15; then undergoes political 
defeat, family loss, and financial 
ruin, 15, 16; his success in the 
House of Representatives, 16; 
careless in money matters, 16; 
his affairs straightened out by his 
son, 17; unwilling to write life of 
his father, 19, 20; his opinion of 
Jackson, 20;. his strong opinions 
on national authority lead him to 
support Jackson in 1835, 20-25; 
indignant at Senate's attempt to 
control patronage, 22; foresees 


410 


dangers of Calhoun’s bill, 23 ; de- 
nounces Webster for supporting 
the bill, 24, 25; his argumenta- 
tive style surpassed by his son in 
pamphlet on the patronage issue, 
26, 27; his fame overshadows his 
son, 28, 29; his participation in 
slavery controversy deplored by 
his son, 30, 31; his successful de- 
fense against Southern members, 
31; again attacked, 32, 33; sug- 
gests that C. F. Adams write a 
life of his grandmother, 39; af- 
fected by C. F. Adams’s memoir 
of Abigail Adams, 41; induces his 
son to enter legislature, 42; his 
advice to his son on entering pub- 
lic life, 44; has a paralytic shock, 
82; leaves Quincy for last time, 
85; his career of seventy years, 
86; votes for Winthrop for 
speaker, 86; his death, 87; leader 
of anti-slavery sentiment until 
1895, 98; his Memoirs completed 
by C. F. Adams, 402. 

Alabama, construction of, 309-314 ; 
escape of, from Liverpool, 315; its 
career as a commerce destroyer, 
317; arbitration concerning, 392- 
397. See Diplomatic History. 

Albert, Prince, death of, 227. 

Allen, Charles, at Whig Convention 
of 1847, 83; at National Whig 
Convention refuses to support 
Taylor, 89. 

Anderson, Robert, commands at 
Fort Sumter, 124. 

Appleton, Nathan, leading Boston 
business man, 74; opposes slavery 
agitation, 74; wishes to ‘‘save”’ 
Sumner, 75; refuses to sign pro- 
test against Texas, 76; lashed by 
Palfrey, 76, 77. 

Argyll, Duke of, in the cabinet op- 
poses recognition of Confederacy, 
283 ; visited by Adams, 339; im- 
pressed by Adams with gravity of 
situation, 339; at breakfast with 
Gladstone and Adams. 368. 

Ashley, Evelyn, his version of Pal- 


INDEX 


merston’s break with Adams, 240, 
246. 

Ashmun, George, at Whig Conven- 
tion of 1847, 83. 

Aspinwall, W. H., sent to buy Laird 
rams, 354; false importance as- 
signed to, 355. 

Austin, James T., at meeting in 
Faneuil Hall justifies murder of 
Lovejoy, 34, 35. 

Austria agrees to Declaration of 
Paris, 201. 


Banks, Nathaniel P., discarded by 
Lincoln in favor of Welles for 
Navy Department, 143. 

Barnburners, revolt from Cass’s 
nomination, 91; agree to unite 
with Conscience Whigs if Van 
Buren be the candidate, 91; re- 
join Democrats in 1849, 98. 

Bates, Joshua, head of Baring 
Brothers, visits Adams on his 
arrival, 147. 

Becket, Thomas, observations of 
Adams on, 364. 

Bennett, James Gordon, type of 
new editor, 67. 

Beresford- Hope, denounces the 
North, 279; denounces the Eman- 
cipation Proclamation, 296. 

Border States, do not favor seces- 
sion, 120; necessity for North to 
keep them until March 4th, 120, 
121; hope of Adams to retain, 
131, 134, 1389; affected by Adams’s 
speech, 142; appealing letters 
from, to Seward, 186; secede in 
part, 190. 

‘Boston Centinel,’’ 
Adams in, 26, 38. 
Boston Latin School, studies of 

Adams at, 11. 

‘Boston Whig,’’ taken as an anti- 
slavery organ by Adams, 50, 51, 
63, 67; its small circulation, 67; 
its appecrance, 68; its political 
attitude, 69; has difficulty in ex- 
isting, 82, 87; a burden to Adams, 
87, 88. 


papers of 


INDEX 


Bravay & Co. intermediaries in 
Slidell’s scheme to gain the Laird 
rams, 329. 

Bright, Jacob, applauds Emancipa- 
tion Proclamation, 299. 

Bright, John, surprised at indiffer- 
ence of North, 156, 157; certain 
to oppose a slave power, 262; 
suggests an American food con- 
tribution for English working- 
men during cotton famine, 276; 
applauds the Emancipation Pro- 
clamation, 297; lashes Roebuck 
in Parliament, 332, 333; his emo- 
tion at Cobden’s funeral, 372. 

Brooks, Abigail Brown, marriage to 
C. F. Adams, 13; her discoura- 
ging criticisms on his life of Abi- 
gail Adams, 40; her death, 402. 

Brooks, Peter Chardon, father-in- 
law of C. F. Adams and Edward 
Everett, 13. 

Brown, James, publishes ‘‘ Letters 
of Mrs. Adams,’’ 40. 

Buchanan, James, failures of his 
administration, 107; vacillates 
pitiably in 1861, 119; his filibus- 
tering foreign policy, 202. 

Buckingham, Joseph T., editor of 
** Courier,’’ 69. 

Buffalo Convention of 1848, 90, 91. 

Bulloch, James H., secures build- 
ing of vessels in England for Con- 
federacy, 306; plans to balk ef- 
forts of Adams to detain them, 
309; warned that vessel must 
leave at once, 314; makes con- 
tracts for two ironclads, 315; 
alarmed by increase of English 
supervision, 323 ; thinks their es- 
cape hopeless, 524; arranges with 
Slidell their sale to a French 
firm, 329; annoyed by number of 
Confederate agents, 353. 

Butler, General Benjamin F., issues 
order regarding New Orleans 
women, 243; his action justified, 
246, 247; abused in England, 248; 
protested against by Palmerston, 
249, 252, 257; superseded, to 


411 


English satisfaction, 258; urges 
demand for indirect Alabama dam- 
ages, 388. 


Calhoun, John C., introduces bill to 
give Senate control of patronage, 
23; not a disunionist, 61; uses 
threat of disunion to coerce the 
North, 61, 62. 

Cambridge, Duke of, at Palmer- 
ston’s funeral, 374. 

Canterbury, Adams’s visit to and 
impressions of, 363-368. 

Cass, Lewis, nominated by Demo- 
crats in 1848, 90; desire of Barn- 
burners for vengeance upon, 91; 
resigns secretaryship of state in 
1861, 134. 

Cavendish, Lord Frederick, at 
breakfast with Gladstone and 
Adams, 368. 

Channing, William Ellery, his pam- 
phlet on slavery impresses C. F. 
Adams, 31; his part in meeting 
to protest against Lovejoy’s mur- 
der, 33, 34. 

Chase, Salmon P., a logical candi- 
date for Free-Soil party, 99; his 
position in Republican party in 
1858, 108 ; reported as willing to 
accept secession, 150; has to eat 
his words in Trent affair, 237. 

Cherokee Treaty debated in Con 
gress, 37. 

Choate, Rufus, argues for return 
of fugitive slaves, 60; sneers at 
Adams in 1848, 94. 

Cincinnati Convention in 1872, 390, 
392. 

Clarendon, Lord, negotiates treaty 
about Alabama claims, 380. 

Clay, Cassius M., asserts equal divi- 
sion in South between unionists 
and secessionists, 187. 

Clay, Henry, denounces Mexican 
war bill as a falsehood, 73; vote 
for, in Whig Convention of 1848, 
89. 

Clemens, Sherrard, asks Adams to 
declare himself in 1861, 140, 


412 


Clifford, John H., congratulates 
Adams on his speech in 1861, 141. 
Cobb, Howell, compliments Adams, 
113; resigns Treasury, 133. 
Cobden, Richard, astonished at 
events of 1861, 156, 157 ; certain to 
oppose a slaveholding Confeder- 
acy, 262; meets Adams in United 
States, 263; opposes blockades, 
265; urges upon Adanis the aban- 
donment of blockade, 265; but 
holds to North in spite of the con- 
tinuance of blockade, 265; de- 
scribes to Sumner the Exeter 
Hall meeting to applaud emanci- 
pation, 301; on Mason, 376; in- 
formed by Adams of danger of 
war over the Laird rams, 338; 
his death, 371; his funeral de- 
scribed by Adams, 371-373; 
Adams’s estimate of, 372, 373; 
compared by Adams with Palmer- 
ston, 376. 

Cockburn, Alexander, says that 
Dudley should have asked the 
Lairds about the ‘‘290,’’ 311; on 
Geneva arbitration board, 382; 
wishes to break off negotiation, 
383; regards arbitration as a 
failure and neglects to prepare 
his case, 393; reluctantly admits 
that if indirect claims are rejected 
the arbitration may go on, 394, 
395; complains that he had not 
foreseen Adams’s course, 396. 
Compromise of 1850, 102. 
Confederacy, question of recogni. 
tion of its belligerency by Eng- 
land, 148-171; purpose to coerce 
denied by Seward and others, 151; 
sends agents to England, 158; its 
foreign policy, 159, 161-164; ex- 
pects to force European aid 
through cotton, 161-163; puts 
discriminating tax on cotton to 
force a European famine, 163 ; 
belligerency of, recognized by 
England, 170, 171; hopes of 
Seward to win back by a foreign 
war, 184, 185, 188, 189; thought 


INDEX 


by Seward to be imposed on 
South by a minority, 185, 187; 
really unanimous in 1861, 186, 
187, 195; its emissaries not re- 
ceived after first by Russell, 198; 
necessity for North to blockade, 
261; unable to send cotton to 
Europe, 266, 267; dismayed at 
failure of laborers to force inter- 
vention, 271, 272; its hope of 
ruling England through cotton 
fails, 275, 276; praised by Glad- 
stone, 280; denied by Lewis to 
have achieved independence, 281; 
has naval vessels built in Eng- 
land, 306, 315; proposes to use 
rams to break blockade, 316, 319, 
320; its agents try to secure rams 
by intrigue, 324-337; its bonds 
sell at 90 per cent., 329; its credit 
badly damaged by events of 1863, 
and by detention of rams, 345-347; 
damaged by irregularly accredited 
agents, 353. 

Conkling, Roscoe, in House in 
1859, 109; offers Adams vice- 
presidency on Grant ticket, 392. 

Constitution, in relation to power 
of removal from office, 21-29. 

Corwin, Thomas, a possible Free- 
Soil candidate, 98; chairman of 
Committee of Thirty-three, 132. 

“‘Courier,’? second daily paper in 
Boston, 65. 

Cowell, ——, describes Yankee 
character, 294, 295. 

Curtis, George T., at Whig Conven- 
tion of 1847, 83. 


‘Daily Advertiser’? of Boston, 44; 
organ of Webster, 65. 

Dallas, George M., instructed by 
Seward to prevent recognition of 
Confederacy, 157; sends assur- 
ance to Seward that Russell will 
wait Adams’s arrival, 158; in- 
formed by Russell of arrival of 
Yancey, 169; induces Russell to 
agree to wait for arrival of 
Adams, 169; presents proclama- 


INDEX 


tion of blockade to Russell, 171; 
his dispatch causes indignation in 
Washington, 174. 

Damrell, William 8., elected to Con- 
gress by Know-Nothings, 104; 
reélected, 105. 

Dana, Francis, C. F. Adams named 
for, 4. 

Dana, Richard H., shocked at 
abolitionist fanatics, 56. 

Davis, Isaac P., regrets Adams’s re- 
fusal to accept nomination to 
legislature, 42. 

Davis, Jefferson, offers Yancey 
choice of positions, 159; his un- 
wisdom in selecting Yancey as 
European agent, 159; ignorant 
of foreign countries, 161; over- 
estimates influence of cotton, 
161; despises the military capa- 
city of North, 162; expects to 
starve England into recognition, 
163; offers letters of marque 
171 ; praised by Gladstone, 280; 
on what Laird rams would have 
accomplished, 320. 

Davis, Reuben, calls Committee of 
Thirty-three in 1861 a deception, 
133. 

Dayton, William L., reasons for his 
appointment to French mission, 
144. 

Declaration of Paris, its formation, 
200; attempt of United States to 
accede to, 201-207. 

Democratic party, defeated in 1840, 
42; nominates Cass, 90; bolt of 
Barnburners from, 91; dislikes 
Adams, 104; split in, over Kan- 
sas question, 107 ; disapproved of 
by Adams in 1868, 377; foolishly 
nominates Greeley in 1872, 391; 
badly beaten, 391, 392. 

Derby, Lord, opposes taking ac- 
tion in regard to America, 302; 
accuses United States of trickery 
in pushing indirect claims, 388. 

Dickens, Charles, laughs at Boston 
reformers, 56. 

Diplomatic history, mission of Dana 


413 


to Russia, 4; mission of J. Q. 
Adams to England, 7-10; con- 
troversy with France over spoli- 
ation claims, 21; Ashburton 
treaty, 48; Adams’s mission to 
England, 147-376; recognition of 
belligerency of Confederacy, 148- 
171; effort of Dallas to prevent 
English recognition of Confeder- 
ate belligerency, 157, 158, 169; 
McLeod case, 165; joint action of 
France and England, 169; dealing 
of Yancey and Rost with Russell, 
170 ; English proclamation of 
neutrality, 171; first conference 
of Adams and Russell, 175; 
Seward’s proposed foreign policy 
in 1861, 179-195; protest of 
Seward against reception of Con- 
federate commissioners, 190, 191; 
Seward’s career as secretary of 
state, 196; negotiations between 
Adams and Russell regarding 
Confederate emissaries, 197, 198; 
the Treaty of Paris, 200, 201; re- 
fusal of United States to accede 
to, in 1856, 201, 202; attempt of 
Adams to secure adhesion of 
United States to Declaration 
evaded by England, 203-207; re- 
fusal of Seward to permit dual 
negotiation between France and 
England, 205; the Trent affair, 
211-238; preliminary conference 
between Adams and Palmerston, 
219-226; disavowal of Wilkes by 
Seward, 227; friendly conference 
of Adams and Russell, 228, 229; 
refusal of England to negotiate, 
233; England demands release of 
prisoners and an apology, 235; 
surrender of Mason and Slidell, 
238; protests of Palmerston to 
Adams against Butler’s order, 
248-260; England prevented from 
recognizing Confederacy by dis- 
cord in cabinet, 281-290; instruc- 
tions of Seward as to repudiation 
of any mediation, 285, 286; at- 
tempts of Adams to influence 


414 


cabinet indirectly, 287, 289; de- 
cision of cabinet not to take any 
steps, 288; protests of Adams 
against construction of Alabama, 
309, 312-314; renewed protests 
against construction of Laird 
rams, 317-323; attempt of Slidell 
to force retirement of Russell 
and secure rams, 324-337; further 
efforts of Adams in regard to 
rams, 337, 338; Adams’s solemn 
protest, 341-343; end of Mason’s 
mission, 350; irregular Confed- 
erate and Federal envoys, 353- 
356; further correspondence over 
Alabama claims, 357 ; negotiation 
over Fenian disturbances, 357, 
358; Johnson-Clarendon treaty 
made and rejected, 380; Motley’s 
mission to England, 380; Treaty 
of Washington, 381, 382; Geneva 
arbitration, 382-389, 392-397; or- 
ganization of board, 382, 383: 
repudiation by England of indirect 
claims, 383-389; reasons for in- 
clusion of indirect claims, 384, 
385, 388; rejection of indirect 
damages by board, 393-395 ; suc- 
cess of arbitration, 396, 397. 

Disraeli, Benjamin, opposes English 
intervention in American war, 
302; denounces indirect Alabama 
claims as preposterous, 387. 

District of Columbia, agitation for 
emancipation in, 32. 

Douglas, Stephen A., splits Demo- 
cratic party with his popular 
sovereignty doctrine, 107. 

Downing, Charles, his speech in 
Congress objected to by C. F. 
Adams, 37. 

Drouyn de Lhuys, proposes joint 
mediation of England and Russia, 
290. 

Dudley, ——, informs Adams of 
progress of the vessel ‘ 290,” 
309; unable to induce collector of 
the port to detain it, 311; warns 
Adams that one ram is about to 
sail, 341. 


INDEX 


Edwards, S. Price, knows character 
of the ‘‘ 290,’ 311; refuses to de- 
tain her without ocular proof of 
her destination, 311; accused of 
corrupt connivance, 311; his real 
motives, 312; notifies vessel that 
it may sail, 317. 

Election of 1840, 42; election of 
1844 a turning point in abolition 
history, 57, 58; election of 1872, 
389-392. 

Eliot, Charles W., elected President 
of Harvard, 379. 

Ellice, Edward, entertains Adams 
and Mason, 338. 

Emerson, Rey. William, baptizes 
C. F. Adams, 3; pastor of First 
Congregational Church, 13. 

England, first sojourn of Adams in, 
8-10; Palmerston ministry in, 
152-154 ; expectation of Davis to 
coerce into alliance through cot- 
ton, 161-164; takes lead of 
Europe in matters relating to 
America, 164; supposed hatred 
of Seward for, 164; war with, 
proposed by Seward as a remedy 
for secession, 168, 180-195; re- 
cognizes Confederate belligerency, 
171; denounced by Americans, 
172; its policy partly justifiable, 
173, 174; danger of Seward’s 
policy toward, 193, 195; agrees 
to Declaration of Paris, 200, 201 ; 
blocks effort of United States to 
widen scope of Declaration, 202 ; 
blocks attempt of United States 
to accede in 1861, 204-207; cau- 
tious about committing itself in 
view of possible war, 204; would 
have been involved in war with 
United States had there been a 
cable in 1861, 217; refuses to 
negotiate Trent affair, 233; its 
policy justifiable, 234, 235; its 
demands for reparation, 235; 
folly of war with, realized by 
Seward, 238; suspected by Adams 
of purpose to force a quarrel, 249, 
250; cotton famine in, 265-271; 


INDEX 


forced to feed laborers, 269-271, 
276, 277; end of famine in, 273, 
274; strong movement in, for 
recognition of Confederacy, 279, 
280 ; prevented from recognizing 
Confederacy by discord in cabinet, 
281-289 ; vessels built in, for Con- 
federacy, 306, 307; law of, per- 
mits neutrality to be evaded, 307, 
308; obliged to supervise Laird 
rams more closely, 323, 324; 
finally decides to detain rams, 
343, 344; buys the rams, 351; 
high position of Adams in, after 
this, 357 ; society in, described by 
Adams, 366-371 ; scenery of, 371, 
373; makes Johnson-Clarendon 
treaty, 380; makes Treaty of 
Washington, 381, 382 ; apologizes 
for escape of Alabama, 381; ac- 
cepts Geneva award, 395, 396. 

English, their character understood 
by Adams, 9; learn of America 
from ‘‘ Times,’’ 151; aristocracy 
among, rejoice at disruption of 
United States, 155; their canting 
criticism of the North, 155, 156; 
middle class dismayed at indiffer- 
ence of North, 156, 157; their 
hostility foreseen by Yancey, 160; 
suspect Seward as tricky, 164; 
believe stories of his purpose to 
insult England, 165, 166, 178; re- 
gard Adams as sincere, 178 ; show 
coldness to Adams, 214, 215; ex- 
cited over news of Trent affair, 
226; believe United States wishes 
war, 230-232; undergo reaction 
against Mason and Slidell, 239; 
misunderstand Butler’s order re- 
garding New Orleans women, 243- 
248; their shamelessness regard- 
ing women of the town, 244, 247; 
regard Butler’s order with horror, 
248; laboring classes of, favor 
United States, 263-265; suffer 
from cotton famine, 267-271; 
laborers, although starving, still 
favor the North, 272, 273; upper 
classes denounce United States, 


415 


279, 280; denounce Emancipation 
Proclamation, 291-296; do not 
understand motives nor results 
of proclamation, 294, 297; middle 
classes of, applaud Emancipation 
Proclamation, 297-302; anger of 
Adams at cant and hypocrisy of 
leaders of, 305; applaud failure 
of Neutrality Act to prevent con- 
struction of Confederate war ves- 
sels, 308, 309; refuse on techni- 
calities to retain Alabama, 311, 
312; amused at idea of paying 
for <Alabama’s damage, 318; 
angry and disappointed at Gettys- 
burg and Vicksburg, 335, 336; 
eager to believe news of Northern 
defeats, 349; excited over indirect 
Alabama claims, 386-388. 

Evarts, William M., sent abroad as 
special agent, 354; false impor- 
tance ascribed to, 355, 356. 

Everett, Alexander, editor 
‘North American Review,” 18. 

Everett, Edward, brother-in-law of 
C. F. Adams, 13; urges him to 
enter legislature, 42; congratu- 
lates him on his speech in 1861, 
141. 


of 


Faneuil Hall, meeting at, to de- 
nounce murder of Lovejoy, 33- 
36. 

Faulkner, Charles J., minister to 
France in 1861, 157. 

Fillmore, Millard, becomes Presi- 
dent, 99. 

Fish, Hamilton, secretary of state, 
corresponds with Thornton re- 
garding indirect Alabama dam- 
ages, 388; confers with Adams, 
389. 

Forbes, John M., visited by Cobden 
and Adams, 263; sent to buy 
Laird rams, 321, 322, 354; false 
importance ascribed to, 355. 


Forster, William E., friendly to 


United States in 1861, surprised at 
events, 156, 157; attributes to 
United States a desire to pick a 


416 


quarrel with England, 188; de- 
scribes Adams’s coolness at time 
of Trent affair, 216, 217; the most 
effective friend of the North, 263; 
visits Adams on his arrival, 264; 
his services, 264; told by Adams 
of his instructions not to receive 
any offer of mediation, 287; 
brings rumor of McClellan’s sur- 
render, 348; at Cobden’s funeral, 
373. 

Fort Sumter, question of its reten- 
tion in 1861, 124-128. 

Fox, G. V., on danger to United 
States navy from the Laird rams, 
321. 

France, expected in United States 
to sympathize with North, 154, 
172; really favors disunion, 154; 
hopes of Davis to coerce by means 
of cotton, 162; agrees to act with 
Great Britain, 164, 169; agrees to 
Declaration of Paris, 200, 201; 
consults with England as to joint 
intervention, 249, 261; cotton 
famine and destitution in, 271; 
urges joint recognition, 278, 290; 
influence of Slidell in, 326, 327, 
334; protests against Adams’s at- 
titude, 334; follows England in 
seizing Confederate war vessels, 
351. 

Free-Soil party, elements of, 90-92; 
formed at Buffalo Convention, 91, 
92; its vote in 1848, 92, 93; its 
nomination of Van Buren illogical 
and ineffective, 96, 97; breaks up 
in 1849, 98; ought to have nomi- 
nated a real anti-slavery man, 99; 
casts small vote in 1852, 102. 
Fremont, John C., Republican can- 
didate in 1856, 102; recognized 
in 1858 as incompetent, 107, 108; 
planned by Lincoln for French 
mission, objected to by Seward, 
144. 

Frothingham, Nathaniel L., brother- 
in-law of C. F. Adams, 13. 


Garrison, William Lloyd, mobbed in 


INDEX 


1835, 29; enrages slaveholders, 57; 
ceases to lead after 1844, 58; really 
hinders anti-slavery cause, 58, 59; 
advocates disunion, 75. 

Geneva, arbitration at. See Diplo- 
matic History. 

Gibson,. Milner, in Palmerston’s 
cabinet opposes recognition of 
Confederacy, 283 ; in communica- 
tion with Cobden, 338; at Cobden’s 
funeral, 371. 

Giddings, Joshua R., consults with 
Adams before Buffalo Convention, 
90; advises Adams not to stand 
on his dignity in Congress, 111. 

Gladstone, William Ewart, chancel- 
lor of exchequer in 1861, 153; on 
the results of the cotton famine, 
274; proclaims success of the 
Confederacy, 280; comments of 
Adams on, 286, 289; disavowed by 
Russell, 289; his social ability de- 
scribed at length by Adams, 368- 
370; at Cobden’s funeral, 371 ; 
calls indirect Alabama claims im- 
possible, 387. 

Gould, Benjamin Apthorp, head 
master of Boston Latin School, 
11; regard of C. F. Adams for, 11. 

Grant, Ulysses S., his services com- 
pared by Lowell with Adams’s, 
345; not hampered by govern- 
ment after fall of Vicksburg, 356; 
supported by Adams in 1868, 378 ; 
meets Adams at Boston, 379 ; con- 
fers with Adams, 389; liberal 
movement against, in 1872, 390, 
391. 

Granville, Lord, corresponds with 
Schenck on indirect Alabama 
claims, 387. 

Greeley, Horace, contrasted as ed- 
itor, with Adams, 67; nominated 
for President to beat Grant, 390, 
391. 

Greene, Charles @G., editor of 
se POSb. 4) Gos 

Gregory, W. H., secures unofficial 
reception of Yancey and Rost by 
Russell, 170. 


INDEX 


417 


Grow, Galusha A., in Congress in | Itajub4, Baron de, on Geneva arbi- 


1859, 110. 


Hale, John P., a logical candidate 
for the Free-Soilers, 99. 

Hale, Nathan, edits ‘* Daily Adver- 
tiser,”’ 65, 67. 

Hall, Newman, applauds Emancipa- 
tion Proclamation, 299. 

Hamlin, Hannibal, consults with 
Lincoln as to cabinet appoint- 
ments, 143. 

Harding, Sir John, breaks down and 
fails to examine Alabama evi- 
dence, 314. 

Harrison, Benjamin, dealings with 
Chili under his administration, 
235. 

Harvard University, offers Adams 
position of President, 379 ; on his 
refusal elects Eliot, 379. 

Henry II., observations of Adams 
upon, 364. 

Hill, Thomas, resigns presidency of 
Harvard, 379. 

Hillard, George S., at meeting to 
protest against Lovejoy’s murder, 
34; praises Adams’s speech in 
1861, 142. 

Hoar, Samuel, 
Charleston, 48. 

Holland, description of, by J. Q. 
Adams for his son, 6. 

Holmes, Oliver Wendell, Jr., visits 
Gladstone, 368, 369. 

Houghton, Lord, at breakfast with 
Gladstone and Adams, 368-370. 
House of Representatives, slavery 
struggles in, over right of petition, 
30-33; votes that war exists by act 
of Mexico, 73; election of Adams 
to, 105; composition of, in 1859, 
108 to 110; speakership contest 
in, 110, 111 ; services of Adams in, 
111-114 ; committees in, 112; ap- 
points special committee of thirty- 
three, 132; discusses compro- 
mises without result, 132; Adams’s 
speech in, 140-142 ; thanks Wilkes, 

232. 


expelled from 


tration board, 382. 


Jackson, Andrew, elected President, 
14, 15; supported in his policy 
toward nullification on French 
claims and on power of removal 
from office by J. Q. Adams, 20- 
25. 

Johnson, Joshua, consul in London, 
2; grandfather of C. F. Adams, 2. 

Johnson, Louisa Catherine, mother 
of C. F. Adams, marries J. Q. 
Adams, 2; familiar with French, 
5; remains with her son in Russia, 
5; joins her husband in Paris, 6, 
7; presides over White House, 12; 
kindness of Winthrop to, in 1848, 
87. 

Johnson, Reverdy, negotiates treaty 
on Alabama claims, 380. 

Johnson, Thomas, relative of C. F. 
Adams, his career in the Revolu- 
tion, 1; member of Supreme 
Court, 2. 


Keitt, Laurence M., in House in 
1859, 110. 

Kinnaird, Lord, the only peer at 
Cobden’s funeral, 371. 

Know-Nothings, carry Massachu- 
setts, 104; oppose Adams’s nom- 
ination, 105; dead in 1858, 108. 


Laird Brothers, build vessels for 
Confederacy, 306, 315; imposed 
upon by Slidell’s scheme, 329. 

Lamar, L. Q. C., in House in 1859, 
110. 

Lampson, ——, believes Washington 
taken by rebels, 349. 

Lawrence, Abbott, representative 
Boston man, 74; his submissive 
attitude toward slavery, 74-76; 
assailed by Adams for refusing to 
sign protest against Texas, 77, 
78; supported by Webster in 
Whig Convention, 79, 80. 

Lee, Robert E., said in London to 
have captured Washington, 332. 


418 


Letcher, John, Governor of Vir- 
ginia in 1861, 125. 

Lewis, Sir George Cornewall, secre- 
tary for war in 1861, 153; an- 
nounces Queen’s proclamation 
of neutrality, 171; thinks South 
may win but ought not yet to be 
recognized, 281, 283. 

‘*Liberator,’”? represents extreme 
abolitionists, 65. 

Liberty party, disapproved of by 
Conscience Whigs, 69. 

Lincoln, Abraham, his debates with 
Douglas, 107; not prominent in 
1858, 108; his nomination causes 
surprise in Washington, 114; after 
March 4, more interested in dis- 
tributing offices than in crisis, 
126; decides appointment of cab- 
inet, 143; on consultation with 
Hamlin, passes over Adams to 
give Navy Department to Welles, 
143; selects Dayton and Fremont 
for English and French missions, 
144; finally yields to Seward and 
appoints Adams to England, 144 ; 
visited by Seward and Adams, 
145; declines any thanks from 
Adams, 146; astonishes and dis- 
gusts Adams by his careless be- 
havior, 146; calls for troops, 
149; proclaims blockade, 170; 
modifies Seward’s belligerent dis- 
patch, 179; his ability not real- 
ized in 1861, 181; develops 
under trial, 182 ; considered weak 
by Seward, 182; his undignified 
rejection of Seward’s resignation, 
183 ; asserts that a minority forced 
secession in South, 187; rejects 
Seward’s policy of foreign war, 
191; wishes to protract Trent 
negotiations, 233 ; issues Emanci- 
pation Proclamation, 291; de- 
nounced by English press, 292, 
293 ; applauded by middle classes, 
299-302; judgment of the ‘* Times ”’ 
upon him, 303, 304. 

Lindsay, W. 8., demands recogni- 
tion of Confederacy, 280; speaks 


INDEX 


of recognition as deferred only by 
divisions in the cabinet, 281; de- 
nounces the Emancipation Pro- 
clamation, 296; used by Slidell 
to attack Russell, 330; visits 
Napoleon III., 330. 

Littleton, Lord, at breakfast with 
Gladstone and Adams, 368. 

London ‘‘ Times,”’ on dissolution of 
Union in 1861, 150; on Trent 
affair, 231, 232, 233, 238; pro- 
phesies Confederate victories, 243; 
denounces Emancipation Procla- 
mation, 292, 303, 304; on Adams’s 
success in securing Geneva arbi- 
tration, 395. 

Lovejoy, Elijah P., murdered in 
1837, 33; excitement over his case 
among abolitionists, 33, 34; his 
murder justified by the attorney- 
general of Massachusetts, 34, 35. 

Lovejoy, Owen, in Congress in 1859, 
110. 

Lowell, James Russell, on value of 
Adams’s services, 345. 

Lyell, Sir Charles, on the perverse 
predictions of the ‘‘ Times,” 243. 
Lyons, Lord, sends blockade pro- 
clamation, 171; warns Russell 
against allowing United States to 
accede to Treaty of Paris, 206; 
presents English demand in Trent 
affair, 236; detained in London 

by ministry, 289. 


McLean, John T., a possible Free- 
Soil candidate, 98. 

Madison, James, appoints J. Q. 
Adams minister to Russia, 4; his 
interpretation of appointing power 
of President doubted by Webster, 
24; compliments C. F. Adams on 
his pamphlet on executive patron- 
age, 28. 

Mallory, 8. R., on the importance 
of the ** Laird rams,’’ 319, 320. 
Mann, Horace, succeeds J. Q. Adams | 
in Congress, 103; has controversy 

with Webster, 103. 


Marchand, John B., commands 


INDEX 


United States vessel at Southamp- 
ton, 221; his naval ability, 222; 
accused of drunkenness by Pal- 
merston, 223, 224 ; his instructions 
to watch the Gladiator and not to 
catch Mason and Slidell, 225. 

Marcy, William L., as secretary of 
state, informs France of refusal 
of United States to accede to 
Treaty of Paris, 201. 

Mason, James M., appointed by 
Confederacy to English mission, 
199; taken by Wilkes from the 
Trent, 211; exaggerated impor- 
tance assigned to, 212; his lack 
of ability, 213; surrendered, 238 ; 
surprised at cold reception in 
England, 239; says that Lee has 
captured Washington, 332; unfit 
for task of persuading Russell to 
let Laird rams go, 336; tries to 
attack Russell in press, 337; 
visits Ellice, 339 ; leaves England, 
350 ; his subsequent career, 350. 

Massachusetts, centre of anti-slavery 
action, 62; Free-Soil vote in, 92; 
carried by ‘‘ Know-Nothings,”’ 
104, 105. 

Massachusetts, legislature of, elec- 
tions to, 48, 45 ; services of Adams 
in, 45-49; passes resolutions op- 
posing slavery, 48. 

Mexican war, brought on by Polk, 
62; voted for by Cotton Whigs, 
63; attacked by Cotton Whigs, 
71; denounced by Clay, 73. 

Milnes, Richard Monckton, shows 
civility to Adams, 215 ; impressed 
by Adams’s coolness at news of 
Trent affair, 217. 

Montagu, Lord Robert, attacks Roe- 
buck in Commons, 333. 

Morrill, Lot M., in Congress in 
1859, 110. 

Motley, John Lothrop, consults 
Adams on his way to English mis- 
sion, 380. 


Napoleon I., seen by C. F. Adams 
during the Hundred Days, 7. 


419 


Napoleon III., plans Mexican 
schemes, 154; favors disruption 
of United States, 154 ; urges Eng- 
land to intervene, 261, 278; co- 
operates in Slidell’s scheme to se- 
cure the Laird rams, 328; confers 
with Roebuck and Lindsay, 330; 
declares himself ready for inter- 
vention, 331; disavows Roebuck, 
333 ; at Slidell’s instigation com- 
plains of Adams’s attitude to- 
ward French measures in Mexico, 
334; seizes vessels he has encour- 
aged Confederates to contract for, 
351. 

‘* National Intelligencer,’? Mexican 
war bills denounced by, 73. 

Nelson, T. A. R., affected by Ad- 
ams’s speech in 1861, 142. 

Newcastle, Duke of, Seward’s al- 
leged revelations to, 165-167. 

New Orleans, Butler’s order regard- 
ing women of, 243; social privi- 
leges of women in, 244, 245; But- 
ler’s administration of, justified, 
247, 248. 

‘¢ News,’’ of London, apologizes for 
Emancipation Proclamation, 292, 
293. 

Newspapers, character of, in 1846, 
64; leading ones in United States, 
65-67; small circulation of, 66; 
country press, 66; tone of it, in 
1846, 72, 73. 

‘** New York Courier and Enquirer,”’ 
its small circulation, 66. 

‘‘New York Evening Post,’ its 
small circulation in 1842, 66. 

‘* New York Herald’’ begins sensa- 
tional journalism, 66, 67. 

Nicholas, Dr., studies of Adams 
boys at his school, 8. 

Noel, Rev. Baptist, applauds Eman- 
cipation Proclamation, 299. 

North, does not realize difficulty of 
slavery question, 54; prevalence 
of ‘‘isms’’ in, 56; dazed in 
1860-1861, 118, 122; does not ex- 
pect secession, 119; without a 
leader in 1861, 123, 124 ; considers 


420 


South Carolina a firebrand, 124; 
bound to act on defensive as re- 
gards Fort Sumter, 127; does 
not understand Adams’s delaying 
policy, 133; hopes of Adams’s to 
unite by showing extravagance of 


Southern demands, 134. See 
United States. 
‘* North American Review,’ its 


character and editors, 18; contri- 
butions of Adams to, 18. 

Nullification, Jackson’s attitude to- 
ward, supported by J. Q. Adams, 
20, 21. 


Orr, James L., on absence of a 
Confederate foreign policy, 158. 


Palfrey, Dr. John G., editor of 
‘““North American Review,’’ 18 ; 
consults with Adams about found- 
ing ‘Boston Whig, 50, 51; at- 
tacks Appleton for calling Texas 
question settled, 76 ; has difficulty 
in securing election to Congress, 
81; at Whig Convention of 1846, 
83; offers resolution to preclude 
support of Taylor, 85; refuses to 
vote for Winthrop as speaker, 86. 

Palmerston, Lord, premier in 1861, 
153; inclined to favor secession- 
ists, 153; his management of 
‘opium war,’’? 157; held respon- 
sible by Adams for evasions of 
England in 1861, 204; does not 
wish war, 219; his remarks 
satisfy Adams, 220; asks Adams 
for a private interview, 220; 
foresees and wishes to avoid diffi- 
culties over possible American 
seizures of Confederate emissaries 
on English vessels, 220-222 ; sug- 
gests that such be avoided as 
needless, 223, 224; reassured by 
Adams, 225; good results of his 
conversation during Trent affair, 
236, 237; distrusted by Adams, 
241; represented by the ‘‘ Morn- 
ing Post,’’ 241; polite socially to 
Adams, 242; writes furious letter 








INDEX 


to Adams denouncing Butler, 248; 
suspected by Adams of trying to 
force a quarrel, 249, 250; Adams’s 
reply to, 250; repeats his denun- 
ciation of Butler in a second let- 
ter, 252; again asked by Adams 
to state whether he is acting offi- 
cially or not, 253, 254; his real 
motives, 255; put in a false posi- 
tion by Adams, 255; explains his 
action to have been public, 256- 
258; denies having cast imputa- 
tions on the United States, 258; 
Adams’s last reply to, 259, 260; 
after a break succeeds in renew- 
ing social intercourse with the 
Adamses, 260; appealed to by 
Roebuck to recognize Confeder- 
acy, 279; thinks time has come to 
intervene, 281 ; suggests methods 
of intervention, 282; holds pre- 
miership outside of party, 288; 
acquiesces reluctantly in necessity 
of doing nothing, 288; rebukes 
Roebuck, 332; his death, 371; his 
funeral described by Adams, 373- 
376 ; Adams’s judgment of, 376. 

Parliament, attempt of Slidell to 
force resignation of Russell by 
proceedings in, 330-333; really 
sympathizes with South, but dis- 
gusted with Roebuck’s attitude, 
334. 

Peacocke, G. M. W., denounces 
Emancipation Proclamation, 296. 
Pennington, William, chosen speaker 
in 1859, 110; assigns Adams to a 

sham committee, 112. 

Persigny, M. de, said to have visited 
London to plan Anglo-French in- 
tervention, 249. 

Personal Liberty bills complained 
of by South, 136-138, 

Phillips, Stephen C., consults with 
Adams about publishing ‘* Boston 
Whig,’’ 50; takes two fifths inter- 
est, 51; his connection with Free- 
Soil party, 52; at Whig Conven- 
tion of 1847, 83 ; at Buffalo Con- 
vention, 95. 


INDEX 


Phillips, Wendell, his speech at 
Faneuil Hall meeting after Love- 
joy affair, 36; made prominent by 
Southern abuse, 57; really hinders 
anti-slavery cause after 1844, 58, 
59. 

Pierce, Edward L., describes Mas- 
sachusetts politics, 70; describes 
Whig Convention of 1846, 79. 

Pierce, Franklin, election of, 102. 

Polk, James K., sends message an- 
nouncing Mexican war, 62. 

** Post,’ organ of Massachusetts 
Democrats, 65. 

** Post,’’ organ of Palmerston, 230, 
241; accuses Adams of stock 
speculation during Trent affair, 
239 ; its bitterness toward North, 
241, 243; denounces Emancipa- 
tion Proclamation, 292; denounces 
Exeter Hall meeting, 300; an- 
nounces detention of rams, 343. 

Preston, William, minister to Spain 
in 1861, 157. 

Pryor, Roger A., in House in 1859 
110. 

. Prussia, agrees to Declaration of 

Paris, 201. 


Quincy, Edmund, becomes an aboli- 
tionist, 36. 


Republican party, its origin, 102; 
elects a majority of House in 
1858, 102; socially at a disadvan- 
tage in Washington, 106; makes 
a mistake in nominating Fremont, 
107, 108; candidates for nomina- 
tion of, 108; its existence defended 
by Adams, 113; nominates Lin- 
coln, 114; succeeds in election of 
1860, 115, 116; bound in 1860 to 
put South in the wrong, 122; 
necessity of its changing tone in 
time of triumph, 129, 130; ready 
to disavow purpose to interfere 
with slavery in the States, 137; 
its reconstruction policy disliked 
by Adams, 377, 378; dissatisfac- 
tion in with Grant, 390; bolt of 





421 


Independents from, 390, 391; 
wins election easily, 390; offers 
vice-presidency to Adams, 392. 

Roebuck, John Arthur, abuses the 
North and urges intervention, 
279; abuses Napoleon, 330; by 
Slidell’s management, visits Na- 
poleon, 330; moves in Parliament 
to force recognition of Confed- 
eracy, 331; mismanages attempt, 
332; ruins his case by telling of 
his dealings with Napoleon, 332, 
333; lashed by opposition, 333; 
withdraws his motion, 333. 

Rost, P. A., Confederate agent, ob- 
tains interview with Russell, 158, 
169, 170; refused further recep- 
tion, 198; declines to protest, 198. 

Russell, George 8., withdraws from 
contest for Republican nomina- 
tion in favor of Adams, 105. 

Russell, Lord John, his speech on 
recognition of Confederacy sur- 
prizes Adams, 147; foreign secre- 
tary in 1861, 153; expected to 
favor the North, 153; assures 
Dallas of his intention to wait 
arrival of Adams before announ- 
cing attitude of Great Britain, 
158; confers with Dallas on re- 
ports of a blockade and on arri- 
val of Confederate agents, 169; 
agrees to postpone action until 
arrival of Adams, 169; receives 
Yancey and Rost, 170; announces 
recognition of Confederate belli- 
gerency, 170; finding himself in 
wrong, grows cautious, 173; has 
interview with Adams, contrast 
of the two men, 175, 176; veiled 
threat of Adams to, 197; says he 
has no intention of receiving 
Yancey and Rost, 178; refuses 
to make England responsible 
for Confederate privateers, 204; 
looks upon recognition of Confed- 
eracy as inevitable, 204; annoys 
Adams by delays and quibbles, 
206; asks United States to except 
present difficulties from Treaty 


422 


of Paris, 207; does not under- 
stand significance of situation, 
208; likes Adams’s directness, 
208; grows more cautious con- 
tinually,- 208; asks advice of 
crown lawyers on right of a 
United States vessel to board a 
British mail steamer, 221; shows 
no ill-will after Trent affair, 226; 
discusses Seward’s dispatch, 227; 
says hostilities not certain, even 
in case of a diplomatic rupture, 
228; disavows English precedents, 
229; his attitude pleases Adams 
229; on necessity for firmness 
towards United States, 234; sends 
dispatch demanding release of 
prisoners, 235; surprised at Pal- 
merston’s Butler letter, 251; tells 
Adams to regard it as private, 
254; pleases Adams by his atti- 
tude, 255; agrees with Palmerston 
that time has come to intervene, 
281; calls cabinet meeting to 
consider matter, 283; tells Adams 
that Gladstone does not speak 
for the cabinet, 289; admits the 
Alabama case to be a scandal, 
313; harassed by Adams’s argu- 
ments, 317; irritated by escape 
of ‘*290,’’ 324; attempt of Slidell 
to force out of cabinet, 330; his 
resignation rumored, 331; re- 
mains in office, 333; accused by 
Mason of subservience to Adams, 
337 ; continued pressure of Adams 
upon, 338; wishes to prevent 
sailing of rams, yet finds politi- 
cal obstacles, 340; appealed to 
by Adams on September 34d, 341; 
receives renewed and stronger 
appeals, 342, 343; determines to 
detain the vessels, 344; last pro- 
test of Mason to, 350; negotiates 
regarding Alabama claims, 357; 
at Palmerston’s funeral, 375. 
Russell, Dr. William H., sent by 
““Times’’ to America in 1861, 
151; impressed with carelessness 
of people about disunion, 151, 


INDEX 


152; reports popular ideas in 
New York as to attitude of France 
and England, 154; on Southern 
faith in influence of cotton, 162; 
on Seward’s fatuous optimism, 
186; says American government 
dare not surrender Mason and 
Slidell, 231, 232. 

Russia, action against, proposed by 
Seward, 180; agrees to Declara- 
tion of Paris, 201. 


Schenck, General, American minis- 
ter to England, 387. 

Schurz, Carl, opposes reélection of 
Grant, 390; tries to unite all ele- 
ments by calling Liberal Republi- 
can Convention, 390. 

Sclopis, Count Frederic, on Geneva 
arbitration board, 382; elected 
president of board, 383. 

Scott, Winfield, visits J. Q. Adams 
in London, 8; remembers youth- 
ful question of C. F. Adams, 9. 

Seaton, William W., type of old- 
fashioned editor, 67. 

Semmes, Raphael, amused at idea 
of England’s being called upon 
to pay for Alabama’s damages, 
318. 

Senate, proposal of Calhoun to give 
it power over removals from 
office, 21-23; its encroachments 
on executive foreseen by J. Q. 
Adams, 23; rejects Johnson-Clar- 
endon treaty, 380. 

Seward, William H., a proper Free- 
Soil candidate in 1848, 99; the 
only Republican to show hospital- 
ity in Washington, 106; ought to 
have been nominated in 1856, 
108; unable to control Republi- 
cans, 108; fails to secure nomina- 
tion in 1860, 114; makes long 
stumping tour in campaign, 115; 
relieved when Virginia refuses to 
secede, 126; wishes Fort Sumter 
abandoned, 127; urges Adams’s 
appointment to English mission, 
143, 144; introduces Adams to 


INDEX 


Lincoln, 145; talks freely about 
impossibility of coercion, 150, 
151; instructs Dallas and others 
to prevent recognition of Confed- 
eracy, 157 ; distrusted in England 
as unfriendly and unscrupulous, 
164; his action in McLeod case, 
165; said to have joked with 
Duke of Newcastle on official 
necessity of insulting England, 
165-167; proposes foreign war in 
his ‘ Thoughts’? submitted to 
Lincoln, 167, 168; sends circular 
regarding Confederate privateers, 
171; indignant at attitude of Eng- 
land, 174; sends belligerent dis- 
patches, 174, 176; astonishes 
Adams, 177, 179; his dispatch 
modified by Lincoln, 179 ; willing 
to provoke a foreign war, 179, 
180; expects to be head of ad- 
ministration, 182, 183; asserts 
that South is not in earnest, 183; 
believes that in a foreign war the 
South would aid the North, 184, 
185; believes in a strong Union 
sentiment in the South, 186; 
possibly inspires article in the 
‘* Times,”’ 188; repeats statement 
to Russell, 189; willing to bring 
on a world war, 189; announces 
that reception of Southern com- 
missioners would be an _ un- 
friendly act, 190, 191; after re- 
jection of his policy by Lincoln, 
continues to believe in it, 191; in 
dispatch No. 10, threatens war, 
191, 192; expects a general war, 
192, 193; his dispatch modified 
by Lincoln, 194; instructs minis- 
ters to. announce adhesion of 
United States to Treaty of Paris, 
203, 205; refuses to let England 
and France act in union, 205; 
very slow to enlighten Adams 
after Trent affair, 226; finally 
says that Wilkes acted without 
instructions, 227; his reputation 
for trickiness prevents England 
from making any concessions, 


Slidell, 


423 


231; still asserted to be trying to 
bring on war, 232; defended by 
Weed in a public letter, 233 ; his 
conciliatory dispatch not in agree- 
ment with American feeling, 234; 
relies on Adams in whole affair, 
236; recovers mental poise at 
this time, 237; annoys Adams by 
optimism, 239; sends news of 
capture of New Orleans, 243; 
tells Adams to refuse to entertain 
any proposal to mediate, 284-286; 
instructs him to withdraw in case 
England recognizes the Confed- 
eracy, 286; his instructions to 
Adams regarding the Laird rams, 
322; amnounces surrender of 
Vicksburg, 335; his instructions 
disregarded by Adams, 337, 338; 
always supports Adams, 352; yet 
at first annoys him by irregular 
envoys, 352; denies reputed dis- 
satisfaction with Adams, 355. 


Sherman, John, in House in 1859, 


109; candidate of Republicans 
for speaker, 110. 


Slavery, its situation in 1846, 53; 


view of Conscience Whigs regard- 
ing, 54-59; evidently not going 
to die out in 1844, 59; attacked 
in Lincoln’s Emancipation Pro- 
clamation, 291. 


Slave trade, proposal of South to 


reopen, 135, 

John, taken by Wilkes 
from the Trent, 211; exaggerated 
importance assigned to, 212, 213; 
does not realize value to Confed- 
eracy of his seizure, 213, 214; 
surrendered by United States, 
238; surprised at cold reception 
in England, 239; begins intrigue 
to secure escape of Laird rams, 
324, 325; contrasted with his 
opponent, Adams, 325; his abil- 
ity, 326; gains good position in 
France, 326; operates through 
France on England, 327 ; aims to 
force resignation of Russell in 
order to secure recognition of 


424 


South, 328; aims to break block- 
ade by escape of rams, 328; ar- 
ranges sale of Laird rams to a 
French firm, 329; induces Napo- 
leon III. to assure Roebuck and 
Lindsay of his desire for inter- 


INDEX 


Bill, 23; under Lincoln, 126, 146, 
182. 


Spurgeon, Charles H., his religious 


services described by Adams, 359- 
363 ; prays for the success of the 
North, 363. 


vention, 330; his influence recog- | Staempfli, Jacob, on Geneva arbi- 


nized by Adams, 331; instigates 
French attack on Adams, 334; 
stirs up Mason to renew attack 


tration board, 382. 


Stanley, Dean A. P., reads service 


at Palmerston’s funeral, 375. 


on Russell, 336, 337; fails in his| Stevens, Thaddeus, in House in 


European intrigue, 347, 348; his 
subsequent career, 350, 351. 
South, aroused at first whisper of 
abolitionists, 29, 51; expects to 
coerce North by threat of dis- 
union, 61; refuses to support 
Douglas, 107; agitated by John 
Brown raid, 109; not believed by 
the North to be in earnest, 118 ; 
not unanimous in favor of seces- 
sion, 120; necessity for North to 
keep it divided until March 4th, 
121; extreme leaders of, wish to 
force a conflict, 121 ; well led in 
1861, 123; distrusts South Caro- 
lina as extreme, 124; would have 
been united by any attack on 
South Carolina, 127; not likely 
to have been cowed by a show of 
vigor in 1860, 128, 129; efforts of 
Adams to put leaders of in posi- 
tion of refusing concessions, 134 ; 
its real plans in 1861, 135; its 
wrongs as stated in 1861, 136; 
embarrassed by Adams’s offer of 
compromise, 137; its leaders 
drop mask and avow desire for 
more territory, 138, 139. See 
Confederacy. 

South Carolina, expels Hoar, 48; 
forced to deal with Fort Sumter, 
124; generally regarded as ex- 
treme, 124; prevents relief of 
Sumter, 125; commits error in 
attacking Sumter, 128. 


Sumner, 


1859, 109. 

Charles, consults with 
Adams and others about ‘‘ Boston 
Whig,’’ 50, 51; has sharp corre- 
spondence with Winthrop, 78; at 
Whig Convention of 1847, 83; 
makes a poor speech, 84; gains 
prominence in Massachusetts, 100; 
aids in securing nomination of 
Adams in 1858, 105; lives in 
apartments at Washington, 106 ; 
on possibility of stifling secession 
in 1861, 128; considers modera- 
tion weakness, 130, 184; reported 
as willing to accept secession, 
150; wishes to protract Trent 
negotiations, 233 ; introduces in- 
direct claims into Alabama ques- 
tion, 380, 384 ; his motives for so 
doing, 385; his action nearly ruins 
negotiations, 388; opposes reélec- 
tion of Grant, 390. 


Taylor, P. A., congratulates Adams 


on the Emancipation proclama- 
tion, 299. 


Taylor, Zachary, his candidacy fore- 


seen in 1817, 85; nominated by 
Whig Convention, 88; refusal of 
Conscience Whigs to support, 89 ; 
his death in office, 102. 


Tenterden, Lord, English counsel 


in Geneva arbitration, 394. 


Texas, admitted to Union, 62; final 


protest against, in Massachusetts, 


Spain, action against, proposed by| 76. 
Seward, 180. Thornton, Sir Edward, protests to 
Spoils system, proposal of Calhoun| Fish against indirect Alabama 
to prevent, by the Patronage| claims, 388. 


INDEX 425 


Trumbull, Lyman, opposes Grant’s 
reélection, 390. 

Turkey, adopts Declaration of Paris, 
201. 


United States, public conscience of, 
in 1840-1860, 53; European atti- 
tude toward in 1861, 148, 151, 152; 
before April 15th, seems inclined 
to permit secession, 149, 150; 
its careless attitude surprises Eng- 
lish, 151, 192; expects sympathy 
from France but not England, 
154; despised by South, 162; en- 
raged at English recognition of 
Confederate belligerency, 172; 
refuses to accede to Treaty of 
Paris, 201, 202; wishes under Lin- 
coln to accede, 202; enthusiasm 
in, over Wilkes’s seizure of Mason 
and Slidell, 211, 226; disavows 
Wilkes, 227; believed by English 
to wish war, 230-232; folly of 
popular feeling in, 233-235 ; its 
respect for women not realized 
in England, 244; furiously de- 
nounced on account of Butler’s 
New Orleans order, 249, 252; 
sends food ships for English cot- 
ton workers, 276, 277; abused by 
English, 279, 280; alarmed at pro- | 
spect of two Confederate rams, 
320; tries to purchase the rams, 
321; feeling in, with regard to 
Adams’s attitude in Fenian nego- 
tiations, 357, 358; changed be- 
tween 1861-1868, 377; its claim | 
for indirect damages an insult to 
England, 385. 


Vallandigham, Clement L., in House 
in 1859110. 

Van Buren, John, leads Barnburners 
back into Democratic party, 98. 
Van Buren, Martin, defeated for 
President in 1840, 42 ; condemned 
by Adams for subserviency to the 
South, 43; nominated by Barn- 
burners, 90, 91; his followers 





wish revenge on Cass, 91; nomi- 


nated by Buffalo Convention, 91 ; 
his candidacy damages Free-Soil 
ticket, 92, 95, 99; opinions of 
Adams concerning, 96; no more 
logical as a candidate than Web- 
ster). 97,99... 1) 

Villiers, C. P., in cabinet opposes 
recognition of Confederacy, 283; 
at Cobden’s funeral, 371. 

Virginia, decides not to secede in 
1860, 125, 126; calls Peace Con- 
ference, 126; secedes, 190. 


Wales, Prince of, at Palmerston’s 
funeral, 374. 

War of Rebellion, events in autumn 
of 1861, 210; beginning of Confed- 
erate privateering, 210; Union 
successes in spring of 1862, 242, 
243 ; Confederate successes in 
summer, 310; effect of news of 
Vicksburg and Gettysburg in Eng- 
land, 335; siege of Charleston, 
341, 342. 

Washburn, Elihu B., in Congress in 
1859, 110. 

Washburn, Cadwallader C., in Con- 
gress in 1859, 110. 

Washburn, Israel, in Congress in 
1859, 110. 

Washington, social life of Congress- 
men in, 106. 

Webster, Daniel, advises C. F. 
Adams to study law, 12; takes 
him as a student, 12; supports 
Calhoun’s Patronage Bill against 
Jackson, 23, 24; denounced by 
Adams, 24, 25; uses ‘* Advertiser ”’ 
as mouthpiece, 65; his uncertain 
attitude on Mexican war, 71; 
brought to aid of Cotton Whigs 
in Massachusetts Convention, 79, 
80; at Convention of 1847, claims 
Wilmot Proviso as his thunder, 
83, 84; indorsed for presidency, 
84, 85; does not realize hopeless- 
ness of his candidacy, 85; vote 
for, in Whig Convention of 1848, 
89; sullenly supports Taylor, 89 ; 
Adams’s attitude toward, 97; in 


426 


Compromise struggle, 102; has 
controversy with Mann, 103. 

Webster, Fletcher, at Whig Con- 
vention of 1846, 79. 

Weed, Thurlow, Seward’s agent, 
143; writes letter to ‘‘ Times ”’ in 
Trent affair, 233 ; announces sur- 
render of Mason and Slidell, 238 ; 
makes himself useful to Adams, 
354. 

Welles, Gideon, reasons for his ap- 
pointment to Navy Department, 
143; approves action of Wilkes, 
232; probably realizes uselessness 
of Wilkes’s action, 237. 

Whig party, succeeds in 1840, 42; 
in Massachusetts, opposes slavery 
in 1845, 47; Conscience and 
Cotton factions in, 59, 60, 62; as 
a whole, ready to yield anything 
for sake of union, 61, 74-78; sav- 
age controversy in, over attitude 
of Cotton Whigs, 76-78; holds 
state convention in Massachusetts, 
78-80 controlled by Cotton Whigs 
through Webster’s influence, 80, 
81; its state convention of 1847, 
82-85; attempt of Webster to 
unite both wings of, 83, 84; in- 
dorses Webster for president, 85; 
in national convention nominates 
Taylor, 88, 89; bolt of Conscience 
Whigs from, 89; dies in 1854, 
102. 

Wilkes, Captain Charles, seizes 
Mason and Slidell, 210, 211; be- 
comes a popular hero, 211; his 
act unjustifiable, 212; and need- 
less, 212, 218, 219; contradicts 
previous confident assertions of 
Adams, 226; disavowed by Sew- 
ard, 227 ; approved by Welles, 282 ; 
thanked by House, 233. 

Wilson, Henry, consults with Adams 
and others regarding ‘‘ Boston 
Whig,’’ 50, 51; describes Massa- 
chusetts politics, 70; bolts party 
at National Whig Convention, 89; 
devotes himself to politics and 


INDEX 


gains prominence in Massachu- 
setts, 100; nominated for Vice- 
President, 392. : 

Winthrop, Robert C., regrets 
Adams’s rejection of nomination 
to legislature, 42; votes in favor 
of Mexican war, 63; denounced 
by Adams for this vote, 71; his 
sharp correspondence with Sum- 
ner, 78; struggles to retain sup- 
port of Whig State Convention, 
79; reélected to Congress, 81; at 
Whig Convention of 1847, 83, 84; 
his success, 84 ; becomes leader of 
Massachusetts Whigs, 85 ; secures 
defeat of Palfrey’s resolution, 85; 
elected speaker of House, 86; re- 
fusal of Palfrey to vote for, 86; 
his courtesy to Mrs. J. Q. Adams, 
87; failure of attack upon him, 
87, 88; congratulates Adams on 
his speech in 1861, 141. 

Wise, Henry A., fortunately not 
governor of Virginia in 1861, 125. 

Wood, Fernando, proposes secession 
of New York city, 150. 

Woodbury, Levi, impressed by C. F. 
Adams’s pamphlet on the Patron- 
age Bill, 26. 

Wynford, Lord, shows hospitality 
to J. M. Mason, 332. 


Yancey, B. C., advises his brother 
not to go on European mission 
for Confederacy, 160; points out 
that laboring classes in Great 
Britain will oppose a slave power, 
262, 299, 302. 

Yancey, W. L., offered choice of 
positions by Davis, 159; impolicy 
of his selection as European 
agent, 160; advised against 
going, 161, 162; reaches England, 
169; received by Russell, 170 ; 
not received again, 198; wishes 
to protest, 198; superseded by 
Mason, 199; admits that cotton 
alone is not dictator of commerce, 
268. 





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